


Everybody Wants To Rule The World Pt 2

by general_galatea



Series: Everybody Wants To Rule The World [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: 2020 L'Manberg Election on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Canonical Character Death, Gen, I kinda know what I'm doing, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP Spoilers (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 54,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/general_galatea/pseuds/general_galatea
Summary: Fortunes are made, but lost just as fast.Sort of a glorified retelling of the L'manberg war. I really don't know what else to say. If you're looking for ships, you will not find them here.
Series: Everybody Wants To Rule The World [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036143
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. History Has Its Eyes On You

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: so many events happened during those few months, and I would be completely overwhelmed if I tried to write about them all XD so if I miss some events, it is probably purposeful

Wilbur straightens his jacket and takes a deep breath. This is it. The event that’ll solidify his-  _ L’manberg’s- _ victory. Tommy’s already on the podium, along with Quackity and George. Tommy looks excited and confident; their opponents are whispering quietly to each other, heads bowed. Jschlatt stands alone at the edge of the podium. He surveys the layout, picking at the horns curling from his head. Calm. Calculating.

_ What’s his play? _

He studies his old friend. Everything Schlatt does has a purpose. He came in late to the election. He has no chance of winning. But he doesn’t look nervous or resigned. Why would he even try running for president of L’manberg? 

Wilbur walks up to the podium and takes his place next to Tommy. The younger boy grins fiercely at him, and Wilbur gives him a reassuring smile in return. They can win, he’s sure of it. Maybe it’ll be close, but they  _ can _ win. They have to.

They’ve amassed quite a crowd. Wilbur catches a glimpse of Niki, sitting in the very front. She’s speaking animatedly to Awesamdude, who occasionally gives a nod of agreement.  _ So many people. Counting on us. _ He sees Tubbo, Fundy, Jack Manifold, Badboyhalo, Eret-  _ no, not the traitor- _ Punz, Ponk, Hbomb… 

Quackity’s in front of him, grinning. He holds out his hand, and Wilbur shakes it once. Their eyes meet. “Good luck, Wilbur,” Quackity says. The words are friendly, but the tone is fraught with menace.

“Good luck to you as well.” Wilbur doesn’t break eye contact, making Quackity do it first. To his annoyance, Quackity seems to have the same idea, staring straight at Wilbur with a sort of half-smirk on his face. 

Schlatt’s bored voice breaks through, and Wilbur and Quackity look away in unison. “Can we get this thing started already?”

Wilbur nods curtly. “Lets.” 

_ We can win this. _

“My fellow L’manbergians,” Wilbur starts, looking out over their audience. “Thank you for coming out to watch this first election of L’manberg.” He fingers the slip of paper in his pocket. “I have with me the election results of the three parties.”

His hands shake as he draws out the paper and unfolds it. He can feel Tommy quivering with anticipation at his side. “In third place, with sixteen percent of the vote, is Schlatt 2020.”

There’s a small sigh from Schlatt.

“And the runner up, the one who comes in second…”

“With thirty percent of the vote is the party led by Quackity. Swag 2020.”

A deep, steadying breath. “Meaning that in first place, with forty five percent of the vote, is Pog 2020.”

Tommy yells in excitement, bouncing up and down. Wilbur hears claps and cheers from the gathered crowd, and Tommy shouts, “We did it, Wilbur! WE WON!”

Suddenly he realizes that Schlatt is behind him, looking over his shoulder. “Aren’t you… forgetting something, Wilbur?” the other man croons, and Wilbur can hear the smile in his voice.

Wilbur’s heart plummets in an instant.

“Tommy… calm down,” he murmurs. Tommy looks at him quizzically but obliges, still beaming with happiness.

“Last night, a deal was made between the leaders of Swag 2020 and Schlatt 2020.” Wilbur’s voice is weak. “They- they agreed to pool their votes.”

Next to him, Tommy freezes.

“Pog 2020 got forty five percent of the votes. The coalition party of Swag 2020 and Schlatt 2020 got  _ forty six percent of the votes.” _

“ _ YES!!!” _ Quackity screams. Schlatt, still behind Wilbur, begins to laugh. The sound sends chills up Wilbur’s spine.

_ “Jschlatt has been inaugurated.” _

Wilbur turns away wordlessly, letting the paper fall from his fingers. They lost.

L’manberg lost.

Tommy grabs his arm, his eyes wide with shock. “Wilbur, they can’t- there’s got to be- they can’t… do that- right, Wilbur?”

Wibur stares at him, unspeaking. Carefully he pulls his arm away. Tommy whirls around and comes face to face with Schlatt-  _ President _ Schlatt. 

“Tommy.” Schlatt’s face is triumphant. “Get off my podium.”

The younger boy looks like he’s been struck. Wilbur takes a hold of Tommy’s shoulders and gently steers him away, down into the crowd. It feels like a dream. Everyone parts for them, expressions ranging from shock to triumph to pity. Wilbur doesn’t trust himself to meet any of their eyes, and eases himself into a chair. He wraps his hands tightly around the edge of the chair, and in a flash is reminded of what was only weeks earlier.

_ The four of us, in Tommy’s bunker.We’d been attacked with TNT. Back when it was just the four of us. _

_ Back when I had some semblance of control. _

“Well.”

Wilbur looks up. Schlatt’s speaking. Quackity and George flank him, both sporting grins wide enough to split their faces.

“That was pretty easy.”

Schlatt suppresses a giggle. Quackity isn’t as successful, and his cackle rings out over the crowd. Wilbur feels Tommy flinch at his side.

“You know what I said? The day I got unbanned from the Dream SMP? I said things are gonna change.” Schlatt’s eyes bore into Wilbur’s. “I said things are gonna be a lot different tomorrow.” His voice grows dangerously soft. “Let’s start making it happen.” 

Quackity laughs again. Schlatt grips the edge of the mic stand, a grin starting to curl the corners of his mouth. He’s still staring directly at Wilbur. “My first decree as the president of L’manberg- as the EMPEROR! Of this great country!” 

Tommy turns frantically to Wilbur. “Wilbur, surely not- Will-”

Schlatt’s voice rises with every word. “Is to REVOKE! The citizenship... of  _ Wilbur Soot _ and  _ Tommyinnit! _ ”

Wilbur jolts like he’s been struck by lightning. The clamour from the crowd is deafening. Quackity’s laughter rises above it all, and Wilbur hears Niki, voice raised in a wail of despair. Tommy makes a choked gasping noise, and Wilbur’s mouth gapes open in shock.

“GET THEM OUT OF HERE!” Schlatt screams. There’s a wild, crazed look about him. “YOU’RE NO LONGER WELCOME!”

Wilbur stumbles out of his chair, tripping over his feet in his haste. The mood of the crowd has shifted; all he sees are the hostile looks and the weapons. So many weapons. Punz loads a bolt into his crossbow. Schlatt is screaming encouragement, screaming for Wilbur and Tommy to get out. Quackity is screaming right along with him, and Eret unsheathes his sword.

Something snaps inside of Wilbur.

_ Survive. _

He whips around and shoves Tommy hard. His brother is still standing stock-still, shocked. “Tommy, go!” Wilbur shouts. “Tommy, Tommy, go, TOMMY, RUN!”

Tommy breaks out of his daze. “RUN!”

And they do.

They run.

The first arrow misses Wilbur’s head by inches. Wilbur shouts and grabs Tommy’s wrist, dragging him along. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows that he has to get out. Escape this place. Find somewhere to hide. Wilbur runs as fast as his legs will take him, not caring that Tommy can’t fully keep up. 

“GET THEM OUT! WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE!”

“Ohhh, it was so EASY!”

Wilbur throws himself behind Eret’s tower, accidentally flinging Tommy to the ground.  _ Plan, plan, plan, what’s the plan, what do we do, where do we go- _

“Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur, here, drink this, drink-”

He fumbles at the potion Tommy’s shoving at him and swallows it without knowing what it contains. Tommy disappears in front of him.  _ Invisibility. _ “We split and run,” Wilbur gasps. “Get out, I don’t care what path you take, just don’t get caught, run as fast as you can, you hear me, Tommy? Run as fast as you can, and GO!”

Wilbur bolts out into the open, and immediately things go wrong. Something strikes his back and he falls with a grunt of pain. Someone screams, and there’s a shout of triumph. Schlatt’s laughter rings above it all. Wilbur pushes himself to his elbows, and feels invisible hands shaking his shoulders. “Wilbur, Wilbur, get up, you have to run, please, Wilbur-” Tommy’s voice is frantic and choked with sobs. 

He sees his hands flicker back into view and a new sense of fear jolts through Wilbur. He’s exposed. Vulnerable. Wilbur staggers to his feet and begins running again, casting one last glance over his shoulder. Neither Niki or Tubbo have weapons drawn, but what concerns Wilbur is that everyone else does. George is nocking another arrow into his bow. Wilbur stumbles back and runs. 

_ You can’t leave yet. _

_ You need to find out Schlatt’s plan. _

_ You have to protect Tommy. _

_ You have to make sure nothing happens to Niki, to Fundy, to Tubbo. _

Wilbur sprints around the side of Eret’s tower and bangs through the door, locking it behind him. He goes straight for the ladder, climbing up and up, higher and higher.  _ Out of view. He  _ cannot _ see you. _ Finally he pulls himself out onto one of the top balconies. Schlatt and his podium are far below him. 

Something grips his arm and Wilbur whirls around, ready to fight. But it’s just Tommy, flickering back into view and blood streaming from a gash under his eye. “Wilbur, Wilbur, it’s me,” Tommy pants. His eyes are wild with fright and adrenaline. 

“Tommy,” Wilbur mumbles, grasping at Tommy’s arms. “Your face-”

“Worry about yourself, Wilbur, there’s an arrow sticking out of your back.”

Pain flashes through Wilbur as he tries to touch his back. “That would appear to be true,” he says with a grimace.

Tommy studies him with worry. “Wilbur-”

“Shh.” Wilbur holds up his hand, cutting off Tommy. “Schlatt’s- Schlatt’s speaking.”

The former L’manbergians turn their attention to the podium. The crowd is beginning to return, and Schlatt’s maniacal laughter seems to have calmed. “Until further notice,” he says gleefully. “Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit are merely a memory of L’manberg. A  _ relic _ of the past. A reminder of the DARKEST ERA this country has ever seen, and I guarantee you all, dear citizens.” Schlatt’s grin is wide. Shark-like. “Tonight.”

“That changes.”

Next to Wilbur, Tommy’s shaking. Schlatt continues, oblivious to Tommy and Wilbur. “We are entering into a new period of L’manberg, a period of PROSPERITY! Of strength. Of unity.”

“Yessir,” Quackity hisses next to him, the excitement clear in his voice.

Wilbur turns away from the podium, shoulders slumped in defeat. Every word cuts through him like a knife. He doesn’t care if Schlatt says anything else. There’s no purpose to it.

_ We’ve lost. _

I’ve _ lost. _

_ There’s no point anymore. _

“Where’s Tubbo?”

Tommy makes the same choked gasp as he had before. Wilbur whips around to face the podium again, heart pounding.  _ No. He can’t hurt Tubbo. _

“I’m right here,” Tubbo says, his voice quavering. This isn’t lost on Quackity, who sneers, “He’s scared.”

Schlatt’s voice is deceptively friendly. “Get up here! Get up here on my podium.”

Tubbo hesitates, and Wilbur hears a touch of irritation enter Schlatt’s voice. “Come on, Tubbo.”

“Uh-” Tubbo’s face is confused, scared. He doesn’t obey yet, and Schlatt’s face hardens.

“You’re the secretary of state, right, Tubbo?”

“Wha- okay- I am? Am I secretary-” 

Tommy lets out a small noise. Tubbo is heartbreaking to listen to. He sounds so scared, so vulnerable, so wary, so… defenseless. Schlatt’s grin grows ever wider as he says, “Well, I’m not gonna fire  _ you! _ I mean, you’re Tubbo! What am I, gonna fire  _ Tubbo?” _

Tubbo still doesn’t move, apparently rooted to the spot. Schlatt’s voice takes on a warning tone. “Tubbo, get up here. Now.”

“I don’t think he wants the job,” Quackity says to Schlatt over Tubbo’s weak protests, and Tubbo jolts.

“I-I do! I do want the job, I’m on my way,” he babbles, and starts to make his way towards the podium.

“Tubbo…” Tommy must know that Tubbo can’t hear him, but he speaks anyways, voice small. “You want the job?”

Part of Wilbur knows he should try to comfort Tommy, but he can’t. He’s in too much shock himself.

Tubbo reaches the podium and Schlatt beckons him forward. The younger boy inches closer like Schlatt will bite him if he gets too close, and Schlatt drapes his arm around Tubbo’s shoulders. Wilbur sees Tubbo stiffen under Schlatt’s touch.

Schlatt smiles at Tubbo. “Tubbo, I need you to do something for me.”

“W-What is it?” Tubbo hesitates, then adds, “Mr President.”

“I need you.” Schlatt speaks slowly, deliberately. “To find Tommy. And I need you…”

“To show him the door.”

Tommy’s gripping the edge of the balcony so tightly his knuckles are turning white. Wilbur blinks, stupefied.  _ He… _

_ He won’t do it, will he? _

“Rumor has it, he’s somewhere around,” Schlatt says, releasing Tubbo. To Wilbur’s horror, his eyes travel straight up, staring into Wilbur’s. “Perhaps on top of a building.”

Wilbur stumbles back, but Tommy leans further forward, not even trying to conceal himself. “Tubbo, Tubbo, NO!”

Tubbo follows Schlatt’s gaze. He looks up at them, pale as a ghost. “T-Tommy… Tommy, I’m- I’m going to need you to come with me.”

Tommy lets out a terrible sob. Wilbur pulls him away from the edge and Tommy fights back, struggling to free himself from Wilbur’s hold. “No- Tubbo- you can’t- he can’t- Tubbo, no! No!”

“Tommy, we have to go.” Wilbur’s own voice shakes. “We have to leave him, Tommy, we have to go, he’s not- Tommy, you can’t help him if you’re dead!”

This seems to get through to Tommy. He stills, and allows Wilbur to pull him down the ladder.  _ We have to be fast. They know our position, so we gotta get out of here quickly. Forget… _

_ Forget Tubbo. _

_ We have to survive.  _

Once again, they run. 


	2. Freeze Your Brain

Tommy’s in a state of complete shock.

_ We lost. _

Of course, he hadn’t not entertained the idea that they might lose. Plenty of people supported Quackity, and he knew it was entirely possible to lose to Quackity. But Schlatt?

He hadn’t thought that Schlatt had a chance of winning.

And he certainly hadn’t thought that they would get  _ banished _ when he did.

Wilbur’s got him by the wrist, sprinting through the woods outside of L’manberg. Tommy lets himself be dragged along. He doesn’t care that he can’t keep up with the older man. It doesn’t matter. Part of him wishes that they  _ would _ get caught. Just end it.

_ “T-Tommy… Tommy, I’m- I’m going to need you to come with me.” _

Tommy stumbles, and nearly smacks into Wilbur. Wilbur had come to a sudden stop, arms spread out in front of Tommy protectively. Tommy looks up, and fear flashes through him when he sees Eret standing in front of them. 

Eret nods. “Gentlemen.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Wilbur hisses. He takes a step back, forcing Tommy to do the same.

“You’ve been betrayed. Banished.” Eret moves a bit closer, and Tommy sees the netherite sword gleaming in his hand. “I- I could help you.”

Wilbur backs up further. “What makes you think we’d trust  _ you _ , of all people?”

“I could provide sanctuary. You’re outnumbered and I’m offering help; you’d be wise to take it. Even Tubbo’s betrayed you.”

In an instant, Tommy’s fear is replaced by anger. “You fucking bastard,” he snarls. Wilbur glances at him, but doesn’t try to hush him. “You fucking- Tubbo did NOT betray us, Eret! You wouldn’t- there’s- TUBBO DID NOT BETRAY US!”

Eret’s face is sympathetic; it infuriates Tommy even more. “Tommy-”

“YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT, TUBBO IS NOT A TRAITOR!”

“Get the fuck out.” Wilbur’s voice is cold. “We don’t want- we don’t need your help, Eret. We won’t accept a traitor’s aid.”

“I understand,” Eret says. He dips his head and begins moving away. “If you find yourself in need of assistance, you can come to me.”

“Get OUT, Eret!” Tommy shouts. He pushes past Wilbur’s arm and shoves Eret hard in the chest. His former ally stumbles. “GET OUT!!!”

Eret’s white eyes are sad. He backs up another step, then turns and starts walking briskly away from the pair, back towards L’manberg. Tommy’s chest is heaving. There’s a technical term for it; dry sobbing? 

_ Tubbo wouldn’t betray us. _

_ Tubbo WOULDN’T betray us. _

_ TUBBO WOULDN’T BETRAY US. _

Wilbur’s arms fold around him. Tommy lets him, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. 

_ There’s no use in fighting. _

_ We could fight back. _

_ L’manberg is Schlatt’s now. _

_ We can take it back, right? _

_ Tubbo betrayed us. _

_ There’s no way in hell Tubbo would betray us. _

_ Tubbo betrayed  _ me.

Eventually Wilbur lets go of Tommy. Tommy takes a deep, shaky breath. “We need to go, Tommy,” Wilbur says softly. “Eret knows our position. He’ll be back with reinforcements any moment. We can’t hold up against everyone on Schlatt’s side.”

Tommy doesn’t move. “Wilbur- Wilbur, what if we fought? Why can’t we fight?”

“Do I really need to go over this?” Wilbur sighs. “The two of us against Schlatt, Quackity, George, Punz, Ponk, Eret, Hbomb, Jack, Sam…” He carefully skips over Tubbo. “We’d be slaughtered.”

“Wilbur, we could  _ fight!” _ Tommy’s aware that he sounds hysterical. He doesn’t  _ care. _ “We could fight against Schlatt, take back L’manberg!  _ We could fight!” _

“Tommy, Schlatt won this election the moment he decided to run!” Wilbur snaps. “There is no ‘fighting back,’ Tommy. He won before it even began.” Wilbur looks down, a weird laugh escaping his mouth. “Hidden barbs and daggers.”

“Wilbur, I can’t just-”

Wilbur grabs Tommy’s wrist again. Tommy flinches at the tightness of his grip. “This is not up for debate. We can’t afford to stay here. Come on.”

The former general takes off at a run again. Tommy has no choice but to follow him, dragged along again.  _ I’m stuck with him. Wilbur’s the only one I can trust now. _

They must have been sprinting for a solid fifteen minutes when Tommy notices that Wilbur’s starting to slow. There’s still an arrow stuck in Wilbur’s back and the fabric of his jacket is stained with blood. Wilbur trips, nearly falling face-first into a bush, and Tommy stops running entirely. 

Wilbur turns and glares at him. “Tommy, we need to keep moving.”

“We need to take care of the fucking arrow in your back.”

This shuts Wilbur up. He reaches back for the arrow and winces at the movement. “I suppose we’ve gotten far enough from L’manberg. I’ll see if I have the things for a healing potion; you find someplace we can shelter.”

Tommy nods his agreement and leaves Wilbur leaning against a tree. For a split second he thinks about running. Just ditching Wilbur and bolting back to L’manberg, grabbing Tubbo and getting him out. Then he discards the idea. No. Tommy can’t leave his older brother like that. 

_ Don’t think about leaving. Focus on finding a place to hide. That’s what I have to do. Find a place to hide out and help Wilbur.  _

He moves out in a spiral movement, letting Wilbur be the center of his spiral. His ideal base would be, well, noticeable. But that’s probably not what Wilbur’s looking for. Wilbur probably wants him to find something… small. Hidden. Tommy sighs in disappointment, and continues his search.

The search yields no decent results. They don’t have the resources to create something underwater. A cave won’t do. Wilbur’s in no shape to climb. Really, they don’t have  _ any _ resources. All Tommy has is a pickaxe- a stone pickaxe. Tommy groans and leans against the side of a small cliff. 

Or at least, tries to. Tommy’s hand goes straight through the webbing of vines, and he falls with a yelp of surprise. He smacks into cold, hard stone, and pushes himself onto his elbows with a groan. “What. The fuck!”

Still on his elbows, Tommy takes in his surroundings. He’s in a crevice on the side of the cliff. Judging by the depth of the shadows, it goes back far into the cliff. The initial opening is just big enough for Tommy to fit through, and the vines managed to cover the crack perfectly.

Tommy whistles. “This… this could do.”

He stands up fully and edges further into the crevice. To his pleasant surprise it widens as it goes deeper. Tommy considers lighting a torch, but doesn’t. He doesn’t need to explore. It just needs to be enough for them to shelter in temporarily.

_ Until we get L’manberg back. _

Wilbur looks up at Tommy’s approach. He’s scrounged up materials, and is stirring a bright pink liquid in a bottle.  _ Oh, he’s actually got a healing potion. _ “Tell me you’ve found somewhere for us to lay low,” Wilbur murmurs. His face is ghost-white, and Tommy feels a flash of worry. The arrow might be stemming the flow of blood, but Wilbur’s still lost a considerable amount of blood.  _ He’ll bleed out if we’re not careful. _

“I think I found a place,” Tommy responds. He offers his hand to Wilbur, and lets the other man lean on his shoulder. Wilbur lets out a soft groan and Tommy studies him with concern. “Come on, I think I remember where it is.”

He helps Wilbur to the crevice. Wilbur raises his eyebrows. “That’s a cliff with vines.”

Tommy ignores the touch of irritation he gets from the sarcasm and sweeps aside the vines with one hand. “Does this satisfy you?”

Wilbur doesn’t show an outward reaction, but he goes into the crevice anyways. He spends a moment surveying the space, then abruptly sits down on the floor. “I need you to take out the arrow. Don’t hesitate, just pull it out in one quick go. Drop the arrow-” Wilbur shrugs off his jacket with a wince and tears a long strip off the bottom “-and use this to bandage it.”

Eyes wide with shock, Tommy protests, “Will, your uniform-”

“Do you really think that matters anymore? Take out the fucking arrow, Tommy!”

Tommy looks at the arrow lodged under Wilbur’s shoulder blade with apprehension. “Wilbur, I’m not sure-” He cuts himself off at Wilbur’s glare. “Right. Taking out the arrow.” 

Carefully he wraps his hand around the arrow shaft.  _ Come on, Tommy. Will’s done this for you countless times. It’s not that hard. Just pull it out. Don’t think about how it’s coming out of Wilbur’s flesh… _

“One, two, three!” Without allowing himself time to think, Tommy yanks the arrow out in one swift motion. Wilbur lets out a strangled scream, and Tommy drops the arrow like it’s made of fire. “Oh fuck, ohhhh fuck, shit, shit, shit, Wilbur, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“Bandage the wound!” Wilbur hisses through gritted teeth. 

Tommy nods frantically. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I can do that, I can do that.” He grabs the strip of fabric from the ground and rushes to wrap it around Wilbur’s torso. His fingers fumble, and he lets out a steady stream of curses.  _ Don’t let Wilbur die, don’t let Wilbur die- _

Finally he ties off the bandage with a somewhat satisfactory knot. Wilbur leans back against the side of the crevice, careful not to let his wound rest against the stone. He’s still paler than Tommy’s ever seen him, but at least there’s no longer an arrow stuck in his back. Wilbur tilts back his head and allows the healing potion to drip into his mouth. He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them and hurls the empty bottle against the opposite wall.

It shatters with a loud crash, and Tommy flinches at the sudden burst of violence. Wilbur curls his knees up to his chest and sinks his head into his arms. Tommy reaches forward hesitantly, unsure and a little frightened. Usually Wilbur’s pretty relaxed, but Tommy knows he can be harsh when he wants to. He wants to try and comfort Wilbur… but what if he lashes out? He’d overpower Tommy in a heartbeat.

“Wilbur?” he asks softly, hand still stretched out. Wilbur doesn’t respond. Tommy carefully slides down next to him, close but not touching. “Is- is everything alright, Big Man?”

When he speaks, Wilbur’s voice is cracked and thick. “What do you think, Tommy.” 

Tommy looks down at the dirt stuck in the cracks of the stone. “But we- we still have a chance, right?” His own voice wobbles dangerously. “Schlatt… Tubbo wasn’t actually serious, right?”

“I don’t know, Tommy.”

“I mean- Schlatt can’t just… do that, can he? We- we can fight back? Schlatt’s never been a fighter, right, Wilbur? Can’t we just take L’manberg back?” He hesitates. “You’d… you’d help me, right?”

There’s a long silence. 

_ He won’t help. _

Tommy’s about to give it up when Wilbur speaks. “Tommy, we started L’manberg. It was our country, my pride and joy. And Schlatt… there’s no telling what he’ll do with it. He’s already gotten to Tubbo, and if Nik- if Fund-” Wilbur’s voice cracks. “If anyone tries to stand up to him, he’ll crush them under his heel. I can’t let that happen to anyone else.” 

“So- you’re actually alright with starting another war?” Even though he’d suggested it, Tommy’s still surprised by Wilbur’s apparent agreeableness. 

Wilbur laughs, the sound dark and broken. 

“Tommy, another war started the moment Schlatt decided to run for president.”


	3. Lifeboat

_Run._

_Stay._

_Danger._

_Safety._

_Unstable._

_Secure._

_You need to get out._

_You have no choice but to stay._

_He’ll kill you._

_He wants you around._

_Schlatt’s not your leader._

_Schlatt was elected president._

_Find Tommy._

_Tommy left you._

_I wish Tommy was here._

“Tubbo!”

Tubbo jumps at the sudden loud voice. Schlatt’s voice is warm, welcoming, but there’s something odd under it, something sharp and dangerous. “Tubbo, come up here! Come up on the podium!”

 _He is not your leader._ Tubbo stands rooted to the place. He’s scared. Confused. He just wants Tommy. Tommy would know what to do. He’d be able to tell Tubbo who’s safe and who isn’t. Tubbo knew he could depend on Tommy. But Schlatt?

“Tubbo, come up onto my podium.”

Slowly Tubbo starts climbing up to the podium. It feels like a dream. This can’t be real, can it? He’ll wake up any second now. Tommy’ll be leaning impatiently in the doorway of the house they now share. He’ll snap at him that they’re late for the election and that it’s Tubbo’s fault for sleeping in. Together they’ll head through L’manberg and meet Wilbur near the White House.

He reaches the podium. Schlatt grins widely at him, walking forward to meet him and placing a restraining hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. The older man doesn’t seem to see the way Tubbo shies away from the contact. 

_This isn’t right._

“Tubbo, my right hand man, finally arrives!” Schlatt calls out. He leads Tubbo right up to the front of the podium, directly next to him. Schlatt’s hand doesn’t leave his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Tubbo sees Quackity’s eyes flash at the words “right hand man.”

_I’m not safe here._

The only people on the podium are Schlatt, Tubbo, Quackity, and George. It makes Tubbo feel small, out of place, outnumbered. This isn’t his place. He doesn’t belong here, among the very people that Wilbur and Tommy had run against.

_I… I’m not Schlatt’s right hand man._

_I’m Tommy’s._

_Right?_

Schlatt clears his throat into the microphone, drawing the crowd’s attention. Tubbo catches a glimpse of Niki in the crowd, hidden in the back. Her demeanor is at first glance calm, but Tubbo knows better. She’s furious. Furious and miserable. Tubbo tries to shrink back, wishing to disappear right then and there, but Schlatt’s hand stops him. All he can do is stand there, next to Schlatt.

“CITIZENS OF L’MANBERG!” Schlatt booms, and Tubbo flinches. Almost as an afterthought, Schlatt adds, “And Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit, once we find them and _expel_ them from our great nation!” Tubbo feels Schlatt’s hand tighten on his shoulder. The subtle message isn’t lost on Tubbo. _This is your fault. That was your job. And you didn’t deliver._

Schlatt continues. “The sun rises over a new beautiful day in our country.” There’s no stress on the word ‘our.’ “The next page of the textbook. I reckon our nation needs to expand!”

Tubbo wonders if he’s hiding his confusion well enough. _Expand…?_

“I reckon…” Schlatt’s voice goes low. His eyes gleam. “... we _take down the walls.”_

This time Tubbo knows his reaction is visible. _Take down the walls?!?_ But the walls are part of L’manberg. An _integral_ part of L’manberg. Wilbur and Eret had built those walls with their own two hands. The walls protected them. They outlined the boundaries of L’manberg.

_Schlatt can’t be serious, can he?_

The crowd reacts as well. “No!” Niki cries, and Eret leaps to his feet, shouting, “You can’t do that!”

It even seems to take Quackity by surprise. “WHAT?” he yells, shock evident in his voice. “What- WHAT?”

Schlatt doesn’t say anything. His smirk stretches from horn to horn.

_He actually wants to take down the walls._

The voices in his head rise to a clamour. Tubbo ignores them the best he can and looks up at Schlatt. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he murmurs tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper. Schlatt doesn’t seem to hear him.

“EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!” Schlatt roars. “ALL CITIZENS of L’manberg are REQUIRED to help _tear down the walls!”_

Everyone is yelling; support and protests. Tubbo hears Niki’s voice, raised higher than he’s ever heard it. “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THAT!”

_He’s taking down the walls._

_Do it._

_You can’t-_

_Do. It._

_What do I do-_

_DO IT._

_These are L’manberg’s walls! You can’t take them down-_

Schlatt’s hand leaves his shoulder. “Let’s get to work.” His eyes pass over Tubbo, and he grins before striding down from the podium. Shivers crawl up Tubbo’s spine. He doesn’t move, frozen to the spot. 

_What do I do?_

_What would Tommy do?_

_I’m scared._

_Who do I follow?_

_Who is my leader?_

Someone’s saying his name. Tubbo blinks rapidly and looks up to see George standing in front of him. “Do you have a pickaxe?” George repeats.

Tubbo shakes his head mutely. George pushes something into Tubbo’s hands. A gleaming, diamond pickaxe. The older man walks away, leaving Tubbo standing there, the pickaxe held limply in his hand.

_“Tear down the walls.”_

His feet are moving without him telling them to. Slowly he walks down from the podium, towards the walls. Quackity’s already there- he seems to have gotten over his initial shock. Block after block crumbles underneath his pickaxe. George is doing the same. There’s a flash of orange fur at the corner of his eye, and Tubbo sees _Fundy._ Destroying layer after layer of the walls. 

Tubbo stumbles to a halt. _Fundy…_

_Wilbur’s own son._

_Tearing. Down. The walls._

“TUBBO!”

Tubbo’s head snaps around. Schlatt is striding towards him, still sporting that eerie grin. “H- Hey, Schlatt,” he says meekly. 

_Why is Schlatt coming towards me?_

_What does he want?_

_Do I run?_

Schlatt’s gaze skims over the unused pickaxe in Tubbo’s hand. “Tubbo, tear down these walls, now.”

Tubbo’s heart skips a beat. He doesn’t move.

_Obey._

_Fight back._

_He is your president._

_He will never be my president._

“NOW!” Schlatt yells. Tubbo flinches away as Schlatt looms over him. “IF YOU CAN’T EVEN FIND WILBUR SOOT AND TOMMYINNIT, YOU MIGHT AS WELL MAKE YOURSELF _USEFUL!”_

The words cut like knives. Tubbo stares, wide-eyed, at the pickaxe in his hand. His breath comes in short, shaky gasps. 

_Make yourself useful._

_I do. I do want to be useful._

_What do I do, what do I do, what do I do-_

“This wall comes down,” Schlatt hisses at him. Tubbo’s thoughts swirl in confusion. Schlatt had been so… nice only minutes before. He’d smiled at Tubbo, let him keep his position. What changed?

 _Why_ had he changed?

Had Tubbo done something wrong?

He feels like he’s being split in two with a dull axe. _Schlatt is not your president,_ a small part of his mind whispers. Pooling votes can’t be legal, there has to be some sort of foul play here. Wilbur and Tommy can’t be banished. And Tubbo’s still here. He could fight, could make things better, could get rid of Schlatt and get Tommy and Wilbur back. 

But…

Schlatt wants him here. Schlatt said Tubbo was important, his right hand man.

Tommy never says that. 

“What are you doing? What are you _thinking?”_

Tubbo jolts out of his daze at the sound of Eret’s voice. It distracts Schlatt as well, who turns away from Tubbo. The other man is a few meters away. His red cape waves in the breeze, and his hand rests on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side.

Schlatt’s tone changes in an instant. Now it’s calmer, controlled. “Eret. Finally came to help take down these walls?”

Eret glances up at the blackstone. “The walls were built to protect our country from outside threats.” His eyes slide to Schlatt on the words ‘outside threats.’ “You’re making a mistake.”

A low chuckle comes from Schlatt’s throat. He steps forward, toe-to-toe with Eret. “I’m expanding the borders. No longer will we be _confined_ by walls. This is a new era, Eret.”

Eret doesn’t back down. “If you do this, I’ll be the first to warn you: You are lining up for a second war.”

Something flashes in Schlatt’s eyes, so quick Tubbo could have imagined it. _Fear?_ “Maybe I am, Eret. Maybe I am.”

There’s a terrible, tense silence. Tubbo barely dares to breathe as Schlatt and Eret stare each other down. Then Schlatt turns and walks away from Eret. Just as Tubbo relaxes, Schlatt’s eyes fall on him again. “TUBBO, NOT ENOUGH MINING!”

Tubbo recoils. The pickaxe slips from his fingers, and he scrambles to pick it up. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” The words can’t get out of his mouth fast enough, and fright only makes it harder to take a hold of the pickaxe.

“Tubbo-” Schlatt sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. The gesture reminds Tubbo of Wilbur. “Tubbo, get over here. There’s something I want to show you.”

There’s a horrible sinking feeling in Tubbo’s gut. He hears Eret make a small, concerned noise, which only escalates his fear. Schlatt could do _anything._

_I could get banished. Just like Tommy and Wilbur. I’d be outnumbered, outmatched…_

_They escaped. But me? I’d be killed._

Tubbo’s hands shake as Schlatt takes him by the shoulders again. He’s starting to hate the contact. It’s not friendly. It’s restraining. 

Schlatt steers him over to the side of the wall. Even though he stops, he doesn’t release Tubbo. “You see those signs, Tubbo?” 

Tubbo follows his gaze down to the signs against the walls.

_If you break these walls, you don’t care about your country. If you break these signs, you don’t care about Patches._

He remembers writing these signs with Tommy. A foolproof defense against anyone hoping to destroy the walls. “Y-Yes, I see the signs.”

“You know you’re my right hand man, right?” Schlatt’s voice is quiet, honey-like. “You know you’d do anything I request of you. Right?”

“Yes- Yes Schlatt?” _This is a trap._

“Tubbo…” Schlatt’s gaze is making Tubbo uncomfortable. It feels like Schlatt is looking right through him, can see his every thought. “See to it that these signs are removed.”

“What?” Eret cries, almost in unison with Quackity. Both start speaking at the same time. “You can’t remove the signs- Tubbo, don’t- I’m all for expanding the walls but- Schlatt, that is going too far- You can’t possibly be expecting Tubbo- Tubbo, DON’T DO IT!”

_Remove… the signs?_

He can feel Schlatt’s eyes on him. 

_Do it._

_Get rid of them._

_You have to._

_But- Tommy-_

_I wrote these signs with Tommy._

_If you don’t obey Schlatt you will die._

_Do it._

_DO NOT DO IT._

_DO IT, TUBBO!_

The wood of the signs splinters under Tubbo’s pickaxe with a loud _CRACK._

Both Eret and Quackity go quiet, both staring at him in shock. Tubbo’s voice is a flat, dull monotone. “Yes, Schlatt.”

The voices in his head quiet as Schlatt lets out a delighted laugh.

_You did it._

_Congratulations, Tubbo._

_You’ve betrayed Tommy._

_You’ve betrayed your best friend._

“Oh, and one last thing,” Schlatt says. Tubbo looks up at him, feeling like he might throw up. “We don’t take Ls here, unlike Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit.” He studies Tubbo carefully at the names. Tubbo keeps his face blank. It’s not hard.

_I just betrayed my best friend._

Schlatt nods his head, almost imperceptibly. Tubbo catches it anyways. _Schlatt thinks I did good. He thinks that was the right thing._

_Was that the right thing?_

_What’s right and what’s wrong with Schlatt?_

“I say,” Schlatt continues, “there is no more L’manberg. I say…”

“We call it _Manberg.”_


	4. Slip

“I have to go back to L’manberg.”

Immediately Tommy starts to protest. “We’ve been exiled, we can’t go  _ back, _ Schlatt’ll kill us! And besides, you’re in no fighting condition, I just pulled an arrow from your back-”

Wilbur sighs. He had prepared for this. “We have no supplies, no weapons, no food, and I drank our only healing potion.” He takes in Tommy’s bedraggled appearance. “I’ll just dart in and dart out. No one will see me.”

Tommy still doesn’t look convinced. “I’ll go with you. Two is better than one.”

“That is absolutely not true,” Wilbur shoots back. “Two increases the odds of getting caught. It’s one thing if I get caught, it’s another if we both get caught. If I go alone and get caught, you’ll still be here to fight. But if we both go and get caught, both of us will be gone. Schlatt’s not going to let us live, he’ll kill us the first chance he gets. I need you here so L’manberg still has a fighting chance.”

The younger boy opens his mouth, but Wilbur barrels on. “Anyways, I know Schlatt. I know his tactics, his strategies, his mannerisms. It won’t be hard for me to slip past him, but with you in tow…”

Tommy doesn’t move. Wilbur studies him, weighing his chances. Tommy’s arms are folded over his chest, and he stands directly in front of the entrance of the crevice, effectively blocking it. And judging by Wilbur’s current physical condition, there’s little doubt in his mind that Tommy could easily stop him.

Honestly, Wilbur’s a little proud of how well he’s hidden the severity of his wound. Judging by the look on Tommy’s face, Tommy still thinks that Wilbur could overpower him. That’s false. Wilbur wouldn’t be able to take on a pig-  _ no, no, no, pigs are dangerous-  _ a sheep. He’d been running on pure adrenaline when they ran, and as soon as Tommy made him sit down he’d nearly passed out right then and there. His ribs had done their job, successfully protecting his lungs, but the arrow had still gone  _ deep. _ If Tommy hadn’t been there to help, Wilbur probably would’ve died.

Wilbur relents. “Fine. While we waste away, I’ll explore the cave.”

He walks towards the back of the crevice, and almost immediately loses his footing. Wilbur slips with a startled cry and claws at the gravel sliding underneath him. Tommy shouts in alarm and grabs his forearm, pulling him back up. Pain flares through Wilbur’s torso, and he stares wide-eyed down into the ravine he nearly fell into. “Scratch that,” he pants. “We’re not exploring yet.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Tommy shouts. “Why would you- how did you not see that?!?”

“I-” Wilbur looks down, absurdly embarrassed despite having his second near death experience that day. “I left my glasses in L’manberg.” 

Tommy’s mouth gapes open. “You left your fucking glasses.”

“Well, I didn’t think I’d need them for a simple election.”

They stare at each other for a moment. Then Tommy rolls his eyes. “Guess we’re sneaking into L’manberg.”

“We?” Wilbur conceals his wince of pain. “ _ We _ are not going anywhere. I’m going to slip into L’manberg, get what we need, and slip out. You are going to stay here and explore-  _ carefully _ explore- the ravine. See if there’s anything we can use.”

“So when do we leave?”

Wilbur glares at Tommy. Tommy grins back.

_ Ohhh, there is no getting out of this, is there. _

“You do everything I tell you to. One mishap, and both of us are dead.” Wilbur sees Tommy’s eyes widen slightly. Good. Tommy needs to understand the danger in going back to L’manberg. “Trust me, and  _ listen _ to me. Even if it’s counterintuitive, just listen to my orders.” 

He waits for Tommy to acknowledge his instructions. To his surprise, Tommy nods almost immediately. “Okay, let’s go!”

Wilbur frowns. “And Tommy… we’re not going back for Tubbo. We get supplies, and get out. If all goes well, you won’t even see Tubbo.”

“I know, Wilbur,” Tommy says quietly.”We- we leave Tubbo.” His eyes are downcast. Wilbur watches him for another moment. The trick to seeing if Tommy’s lying is to look at his eyes. Tommy’s getting good at hiding facial expressions, but those sky blue eyes betray everything. Wilbur can’t tell if Tommy is lying now though. He could easily be looking down out of sadness- but could just as easily be using that to hide a lie. Tommy isn’t stupid; he knows how Wilbur tells he’s lying.

A few more moments of scrutinizing Tommy’s eyes yields no definite answer. Wilbur gives up with a sigh. Tommy moves aside from the entrance, allowing Wilbur to leave first. He walks out of the crevice quickly, turning around before Tommy has a chance to see the blood seeping through Wilbur’s makeshift bandage. “In and out,” he repeats. “No detours. No fighting.” A ghost of a smile flits across Wilbur’s mouth. “You will not attack or challenge Schlatt.” 

Tommy catches the joke and laughs half-heartedly. Wilbur doesn’t miss how the younger boy unconsciously brushes his hand over the scar on his stomach. 

_ God, Tommy’s gone through so much… _

Wilbur shakes off the thought. He can’t afford to think like that now. Not with Schlatt in power. 

_ I have to be ruthless. _

“Let’s head out.”

He takes off at a brisk pace- another act, every step makes his wound ache- and Tommy follows, right on his heels. Wilbur only has a vague idea of where L’manberg is located. He hadn’t exactly been paying attention when they’d ran, his goal simply being to get as far away as possible. Now he’s regretting that decision. If only he had thought to leave some sort of subtle trail. That would make things so much easier-

Wilbur spots a small smear of blood on a tree, barely noticeable. 

_ Huh. I suppose I did leave a trail, even if it was unintentional.  _

He stops walking and wipes away the blood with his sleeve. Tommy glances at him, but keeps moving. Trails are useful, but blood is a little too conspicuous. Too suspicious. Everyone saw him get shot. If anyone stumbled across his blood, it wouldn’t take them long to connect the dots (or rather, the drops of blood).

Somewhat satisfied with his handiwork, Wilbur keeps walking and runs smack into Tommy. Pain flares through him and Wilbur hisses, about to chew Tommy out when he hesitates. Something’s… wrong. Tommy’s mouth hangs open, and his eyes are huge. He hadn’t moved an inch when Wilbur had bumped into him, and his stance is loose, vulnerable. 

Alarms blare in Wilbur’s head.  _ Something isn’t right. _ He follows Tommy’s gaze, and freezes in place. 

“Will- Wilbur…” Tommy’s voice is small and shaky. “Wilbur, they’re- they’re taking down the walls.”

Wilbur’s hand stretches out helplessly. “L’manberg…”

Massive holes. In the walls. Huge chunks of blackstone missing, exposing the land inside. He can pick out figures, flitting around the walls. Ripping them down. Brick. By brick.

_ L’manberg… _

_ My unfinished symphony. _

He built those walls. With Eret. With his own two hands. During simpler times. When his biggest problem was not finding enough materials to make potions. That’s his L’manberg.

That’s  _ his _ L’manberg.

And slowly, block by block, layer by layer, Schlatt is destroying it.

A sudden flash of rage rips through Wilbur. It’s one thing for Schlatt to take Wilbur’s place as president. It’s one thing for Schlatt to expel Wilbur from L’manberg. But Schlatt is attacking Wilbur’s home now. 

And that is taking it too far.

There’s a low, guttural growling coming from the depths of Wilbur’s chest. Tommy still stands utterly still, tears welling in his eyes. Wilbur starts forward, resolve hardening.

_ I am going to destroy that son of a bitch. _

_ Schlatt does NOT TOUCH L’MANBERG. _

He pushes past Tommy, intent on running Schlatt through. Tommy jolts out of his daze, and snatches Wilbur’s arm. “What are you doing?!?”

“I am going to kill that fucking bastard,” Wilbur snarls, jerking away from Tommy. “I am going to run him through with a sword and suffocate him in obsidian so help me-”

To his surprise, Tommy still stands in his path. It confuses Wilbur. Usually Tommy’s so eager, so willing to fight. Why isn’t he jumping on this opportunity?

Tommy’s eyes go past Wilbur, and Wilbur sees the way he stiffens. He starts to turn back towards the ruins of the walls, and Tommy immediately begins speaking, loud and frantic. “I mean- I’m all for killing Schlatt but surely this-”

Wilbur’s eyes narrow. He shoves Tommy away and whirls around, ignoring the anxious noise Tommy makes.

Once again, Wilbur’s struck dumb by the sight before him.

One of the gaps in the walls is slowly but steadily widening.

He can hear the clang of the pickaxe.

Even if the bright blue uniform hadn’t made it clear enough, there’s no mistaking that orange fur.

_ Fundy. _

Tommy’s hand is on his shoulder. “Wilbur, I’m… I’m so-”

“My son,” Wilbur whispers, his voice hoarse and soft.

Fundy’s ears are perked up, and he’s working…  _ diligently. _ Layer after layer of the walls collapse under his pickaxe. He looks... 

He looks happy.

Something in Wilbur’s heart cracks. 

“My son is tearing down the walls.” Wilbur can’t tear his eyes away from Fundy. 

“First Tubbo, now Fundy…” Tommy’s voice stutters on both names. “He’s… Schlatt’s… Schlatt’s taking  _ everything _ away from us.”

_ The presidency. _

_ The walls. _

_ Tubbo. _

_ My son. _

_ L’manberg. _

_ What can Schlatt provide that I can’t? _

For perhaps the first time in his life, Wilbur truly has no idea what to do. 

So he does the only thing he knows how to.

“I heard there was a special place,”

Tommy looks up at him, tears starting to spill over. Wilbur’s voice is cracked and wobbly. He continues singing anyways.

“The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers,”

“Well this place is real, you needn’t fret,”

“With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret,”

The names stick on his tongue.

“It’s a very big and not blown up L’manberg,”

_ Holes in the walls. _

“My L’manberg,”

_ “Independence or death.” _

“My L’manberg,”

_ “YOU’RE NO LONGER WELCOME!” _

“My L’manberg,”

_ My own son. Tearing down the walls. The walls I built to protect him. _

“My L’manberg.”

Tommy’s voice joins his, soft and lilting. Wilbur slowly sinks to his knees, still staring at the broken remains of the walls. The walls that had protected them for so long. Schlatt’s destroying the country. The country that should be Wilbur’s.

There’s a terrible sort of hollowness in Wilbur. He should feel something, right? He should be in a similar state as Tommy. He should be shaking with sobs, tears streaking down his face. But Wilbur just feels… empty.

Cold. 

Wilbur stands up, surprisingly steady. His expression is dull, blank. “There’s nothing for us here.”

Tommy doesn’t protest, surprisingly. His face is pale, and his jaw works furiously. Wilbur takes him by the elbow and begins walking Tommy back. He doesn’t bother to be gentle. It doesn’t matter anymore.

L’manberg, the very place they had fought so hard to defend, is gone.


	5. Apex Predator

Quackity moves quickly through L’ma-  _ Manberg.  _ The walls are almost completely gone, with only a few stray blocks here and there. The sight is almost unnerving. He can’t remember a time when Manberg was this exposed.

_ I’ve gotta admit, Schlatt is efficient. _

He passes the broken remains of the signs, and stops in his tracks. That… what Schlatt had made Tubbo do… that was harsh. Excessive. The poor kid had looked terrified. There was no need to force Tubbo to destroy those signs. It had even shocked Quackity. 

There’s no doubt that Schlatt is efficient. But his efficiency comes at a cost. 

_ Am I really allying myself with him? _

Quackity tries his best to shake off the thought but it persists, nagging at the edges of his mind. He isn’t stupid, and he recognizes manipulation when he sees it. Schlatt had gotten a read on Tubbo with frightening speed and easily played his insecurities. He’s got Tubbo stuck in a mental trap, caught between his personal beliefs on authorities and his allegiance to his friends. And even if Tubbo manages to get himself out of that, Schlatt’s already finding other ways to control Tubbo. Tubbo’s desire to be wanted and important is painfully obvious. Quackity can see exactly how Schlatt is using that to his advantage.

As the vice president, Quackity has a certain level of immunity to Schlatt’s manipulation. But he knows he’s not completely safe. Schlatt hasn’t been afraid to manipulate Tubbo- a  _ sixteen year old. _ Quackity is positive that Schlatt’ll come for him eventually.

“A ticking time bomb,” Quackity mutters out loud. He has to tread carefully. If he doesn’t agree with Schlatt…

_ I’ll be thrown out. Just like Wilbur and Tommy. _

He shivers, still staring at the shards of wood on the ground. He can’t fully ally with Schlatt- but he can’t dissociate himself from Schlatt either. 

There has to be some sort of middle ground.

“I need a place to think.” Quackity turns on his heel and starts heading in the opposite direction. There’s only one place in Manberg that’s truly neutral ground. Schlatt could pop up anywhere (and usually at the most inopportune moments), but the chances of him coming here are slim. 

_ Besides, she won’t mind. I think. She looked like she could use some help anyways. _

Quackity stops in front of Niki’s bakery and studies it. No lights are on, and the door is shut. It looks quite abandoned.

_ Did Niki… leave? Did she take off? Join Wilbur and Tommy? _

His eyes sweep over the surrounding buildings. If Niki’s gone…

No. She has to be here. Niki wouldn’t just abandon L’manberg- fuck, Manberg- like that. Quackity’s eyes land on Jack Manifold’s house. There’s a faint light in the window. Of course, it could just be Jack, in his house, but Quackity doesn’t think so. Without giving himself time to think about it, he enters the house. He’s closing the door behind him when an axe blade implants itself in the wall next to his head.

“FUCK!” Quackity yelps, and he whips around. Niki struggles to pull the axe out of the wood, her eyes wild. Adrenaline rushes through Quackity and he jolts forward, catching Niki’s wrists before she can free the axe blade. She struggles, and Quackity starts talking frantically, trying to calm her down. “Niki! Niki, Niki, Niki, it’s just me, it’s just me, Niki!”

Niki stops for a split second. Then anger flashes in her eyes again. “You’re working with him!”

“Niki, Niki, no, I’m not here on his behalf, I just wanna talk, Niki, please!” Quackity hates to look like he’s pleading but  _ damn, _ Niki looks terrifying at the moment.

She studies him, still poised to fight. Quackity tries to look as non-threatening as possible. After a long, tense moment, Niki wilts and looks away. Cautiously, Quackity releases his hold on her wrists. “Axes, huh? I- I, uh, didn’t think you were the type.”

“I thought you were Schlatt,” Niki admits quietly. 

Quackity’s heart sinks. That’s not the kind of response a good president should receive. Niki’s plan had been evident- an axe blade to the face. If sweet, gentle Niki reacts like that-

Schlatt is definitely doing something wrong.

“That’s, uh, actually what I’m here to talk about,” Quackity says nervously, eyeing the axe blade in the wall. “It’s… I’m not exactly sure what to think- what to do, I guess. About Schlatt.” 

“What about Schlatt?” Niki’s voice is halting. She looks just as nervous as Quackity is.

_ She probably thinks Schlatt sent me. She thinks it’s a test. _

“Niki, I don’t support Schlatt’s actions,” he says bluntly. 

This catches Niki’s attention. She leaves the axe in the wall and sits down, legs crossed, on the floor. Quackity sits as well and continues talking. “He’s- it’s worrying, what he’s doing. He made a mistake kicking out Wilbur and Tommy, and he lost support for that. Taking down the walls- I mean, I wanted to do that too, but at least I was planning to rebuild them once we expanded. And the way he’s treating Tubbo-” Quackity cuts himself off with a sigh and shakes his head. “It’s just not right.”

“Then why did you pool your votes?” Niki asks. It’s not malicious or accusing, it’s just a question. Genuine curiosity. 

Quackity sighs again, longer and louder. “I’m not delusioned. I wasn’t gonna win against Wilbur and Tommy, the original founders. If I wanted things to change, I needed someone else on my side. Someone who could give me an edge. Schlatt had that power.” 

Niki nods. “Why… have you tried fighting back? You’re the vice president. Surely you must have some ability to influence his decisions…”

He snorts. “I have no power as the vice president. It’s an empty role, a meaningless title. Schlatt doesn’t care what I think about his choices. The only reason why he’s letting me be vice president is because it makes it seem like he doesn’t have absolute power. I- I can’t do anything.”

There’s a few moments of silence. The more he thinks about it, the more Quackity starts to regret allying with Schlatt. 

_ At least I’m safe from him. If I’m on his side, he won’t come after me. _

“If you don’t like it here, have you considered leaving?” he asks finally. 

Niki looks down. “I… I have. Packing up my things and going to join Will…” Her voice wobbles. “But I can’t. With Will and Tommy gone, there’s no one willing to stand up to Schlatt, except maybe Eret.” Suddenly her eyes widen. “Not that- not that you’re not- I didn’t mean-”

“No offense taken.”

She groans quietly, facepalming. “Sorry. I really didn’t mean to imply that-”

Quackity offers her a grim smile. “No, I understand. You can continue.”

“It’s- I suppose I was going to say that someone needs to fight back. If no one else is going to do it, I will.” Her brown eyes, usually soft and warm, are hard as amber. “And besides, I can’t leave Tubbo here without an ally. Between Tommy’s exile and Schlatt, he must be feeling so… alone. If I leave, he has no one that he knows he can trust.”

A flicker of torchlight catches his eye. Quackity turns around quickly. “Did you see that?”

“I- I saw it.” Niki’s face pales and she stands up. Quackity stands up as well and steals over to the window, glancing outside. Figures are moving purposely towards the house, and he sees horns curling from one of the figure’s heads.

_ Jschlatt. _

He presses his back against the wall, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. “Slight problem. It’s Schlatt,” he whispers to Niki.

Her eyes widen, and she begins darting around the house, snatching supplies with a murmured apology to Jack. Quackity makes a futile attempt at pulling the axe out of the wall. “Ohhhh shit, what do we do, what do we do, Schlatt can’t know that I came to talk to you-”

Niki shoves a loaf of bread into her uniform’s jacket. “How much time do we have?”

“Only a few more seconds, Niki, they’re  _ coming _ -”

She whirls around to face him. “Act. In advance, I’m really, really sorry!”

With that, Niki punches him in the face and dashes up the back staircase.

Quackity reels back with a grunt, pain popping in his nose. “Holy shit!” he yelps, shocked by the sudden burst of violence from Niki, of all people.  _ Damn she has a strong right, that fucking hurt!  _

The door flies open with a bang. Punz and George enter first, both holding crossbows. Schlatt follows more slowly. His eyes fall on Quackity and he snorts. “The fuck happened to you?”

“She- Niki-” Quackity fumbles for a response. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Niki, at the top of the staircase. Her eyes are fixed on Quackity’s, and Quackity’s heart sinks. He doesn’t want to throw her under the bus.

But he can’t get in Schlatt’s way either. 

Blood’s dripping from his nose. Quackity pinches his nose to stem the flow and Schlatt raises his eyebrows, glancing up at Niki on the stairs. “Niki did that.”

Unsure what else to say, Quackity nods. Something gleams in Schlatt’s eyes and he chuckles. “Niki threatened you? The vice president?”

_ Ohhh I’ve made a mistake. _ “Well- not exactly-”

“No, no, I agree. She’s a threat to the nation,” Schlatt talks over Quackity. “Quackity, what do we do, to threats in Manberg?”

_ You need to be on his side. _

Quackity wipes blood from his nose and tries to avoid Niki’s gaze. “We imprison them.” 

_ I’m sorry, Niki. _

“Huh.” Schlatt looks surprised. “I was thinking more along the lines of- huh. I suppose that works. George? Punz?” He snaps his fingers. “I’m gonna need you to arrest our friend Miss Nihachu.” 

“NO!” Niki bursts out. Quackity risks a glance at her, and sees that she’s backing up, eyes wide. 

_ I am so, so sorry. _

A terrible smirk curls across Schlatt’s face as George loads a bolt into his crossbow. Punz hesitates, but does the same. Panic flashes through Quackity. “You don’t need to hurt her,” he says hastily as Niki backs up another step.

George looks at Schlatt. Schlatt waves his hand flippantly and George nods. He doesn’t put away the crossbow, but lifts his fingers from the trigger. 

“No, no, no, no,” Niki murmurs. She’s fully on the second floor now, eyes still locked on Quackity. George begins advancing up the stairs, and Niki backs into the wall. “NO!”

She turns and bolts. Both Punz and George dart after her. Quackity sucks in a sharp breath and quickly follows, not trusting George or Punz to follow through with his order not to hurt Niki. When he reaches the top of the staircase, Niki’s cornered against the jutting balcony railing. 

Guilt pools in Quackity’s stomach as Schlatt comes up the stairs behind him. This isn’t what he wanted. 

_ Someone needs to stand up to Schlatt. _

Punz steps forward, tying Niki’s hands behind her back. Schlatt is speaking, but Quackity barely pays attention. 

_ I can stop this. _

He’s moving closer to Niki now, trying to act as naturally as possible. He can’t let Niki waste away in a prison. Schlatt can’t be allowed to do this. 

Slowly Quackity comes up alongside Niki. Ever so carefully he slides his knife from its sheath and works it under the ropes binding her wrists. Niki goes still, but stays silent.

The ropes fall away. “Act,” he whispers in Niki’s ear, echoing her earlier words.

His meaning isn’t lost on Niki. She drives her elbow back into Punz’s gut and pretends to wrench free from Quackity. Punz doubles over with a groan, and Quackity lets out a shout of alarm. Niki shoves him in the chest and Quackity “accidentally” stumbles into George, knocking the crossbow out of his hands. Schlatt lets out a furious cry, and Niki dives over the balcony edge without hesitation. She rolls on impact with the ground and comes up easily, running for the treeline. 

As Schlatt yells at Punz, Niki turns back. Her eyes are alight with rage and determination. “Mark my words, Mr Jschlatt, I’m not letting you get away with this!”

With that, she takes off through the trees. George leaps over the balcony after her, but Quackity can already tell he’s too late. Niki’s gone. 

_ Like a bird in flight. _

Satisfaction rushes through Quackity even as Schlatt yells. He’s done something right, something that harms Schlatt rather than helps him. Sabotage from the inside.

_ Schlatt doesn’t hold all the power. _

_ I can fight back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAH YESTERDAY'S STREAMS AM I RIGHT 
> 
> I am crying T.T


	6. Burn In Hell

_ Whose side am I on? _

Fundy stares at the torch in his hand. The fire is captivating. Damaging yet beautiful. Unpredictable yet reliable. It can be used for so many things. Light, heat…

Destruction. 

_ Who do I ally myself with? _

His pickaxe is dull and the handle splintering from use. Fundy had spent the entire day working on the walls, tearing them apart. A small part of him hadn’t wanted to do it. Some part of his mind told him that it was wrong, that he was betraying Wilbur, betraying L’manberg. But L’manberg’s gone. It’s Manberg now.

And tearing down the walls had felt so  _ good. _ It felt like he had a purpose. Schlatt had given him a purpose. Something to do. Schlatt had trusted him with something. 

A gentle breeze blows, and the torch flickers. Fundy adjusts his position so that his body is blocking the breeze. He doesn’t want the torch to go out. Not yet. 

_ Wilbur or Schlatt? _

Fundy starts walking down the path. By now it’s nearing midnight, the moon rising high in the sky. The torch provides him light, but he doesn’t really need it. He knows Manberg like the back of his hand.

_ After all, I helped build it. Me, Tubbo, Eret, Tommy… _

_ Wilbur. _

_ Schlatt or Wilbur? _

On one hand he has Schlatt. Unfamiliar with the core ideas behind Manberg, recently allowed back in the server. The president of Manberg. He’s given Fundy a job, a purpose. It feels good. Like he’s important. Schlatt hadn’t treated Fundy like a shard of fucking glass.

But… Fundy has seen Schlatt lose control, even in the past day and a half he’s been president. Driving out Wilbur and Tommy seemed a little excessive. When Tubbo had tried to voice his opinion, Schlatt had practically ripped his throat out. Eret had challenged Schlatt, and he’d responded with complete indifference. 

_ Schlatt isn’t stable. _

Fundy sees several different sides of Schlatt. One is warm, friendly, supportive. The side that praised Fundy for his work on the walls. Another side is quiet and deadly. Manipulative. That’s the side that Schlatt uses when he’s making speeches or giving orders. And then there’s the chaotic side. Schlatt doesn’t seem to have any control, and he turns into a wild, crazed lunatic. That side came out with frightening speed, emerging as soon as Schlatt exiled Wilbur and Tommy.

It’s not safe. Not for Fundy. But at least he’s managed to stay on Schlatt’s good side. There’s no reason for Schlatt to turn on him. 

Although Fundy hasn’t missed the long, calculating looks Schlatt throws at him when he thinks Fundy isn’t looking. Schlatt doesn’t trust him. He probably thinks that Fundy still feels some allegiance to Wilbur. 

_ Do I? _

Wilbur is his father. But he never really… acted like it. 

With Wilbur, Fundy had never been trusted to do anything. Whenever Fundy had offered to do something, offered to help, he’d been brushed off. It was like Wilbur had thought he wasn’t capable. 

_ But he protected me, right? _

What had Wilbur done for him? 

Had Wilbur done anything for him?

Again the torch flickers and threatens to die out. Fundy blows on it gently, trying to fan the flames. He’s not quite sure what he’s going to do with it. He just knows he’s going to do something.

Wilbur hadn’t let Fundy help. Fundy  _ can _ help. He can be useful. He could have done something to help the revolution, something more than gathering fucking coal with Eret. Fundy could have helped so much more if Wilbur had  _ just fucking trusted him. _

Fundy finds himself at the center of Manberg. The flag looms above him, and Fundy looks up at it. It waves lazily in the wind, the colors flashing boldly in the torchlight. 

_ I helped make this flag. _

He remembers sitting on the floor of Niki’s bakery, scraps of blue, red, white, yellow, and black fabric strewn around him. He and Niki practically crying with laughter as Tubbo wails in dramatized pain, having just pricked his finger with a sewing needle. Eret leaning against the window sill, smiling broadly. To prove a point, Fundy had jabbed himself with a needle as well, trying to claim that his fur was too thick for the needle to penetrate. He’d done it with a bit more force than intended though, and ended up with a small, round scar on his forearm.

Slowly Fundy rubs his thumb over the scar, still holding the torch in the other hand. Neither Wilbur nor Tommy had been there when they sewed the flag. They’d been off doing something else, something that was “important.” Fundy doesn’t really know what they’d done but when they came back, Tommy had been named Wilbur’s right hand man.

Rage flares through Fundy. That position should have been his. What had Tommy done to deserve it? Pissed off Dream, yelled, caused problems? Made it so they lost progress rather than gained it? 

_ Wilbur always favored Tommy over me, or Tubbo for that matter. _

He’d ran from Manberg without looking back. He’d taken Tommy with him, not even stopping to think about everyone else he was leaving behind.

_ Wilbur  _ left _ me. He left me here with Schlatt. _

_ He left me. _

For a split second, an image flashes through Fundy’s head. It’s himself, orange fur glowing from the light of the burning flag above him.

Burn… the flag?

Fundy blinks and the image dissipates. The flag waves over his head, untouched. 

He can’t burn the flag, can he? It’s a symbol of the country. A symbol of L’manberg.

_ L’manberg is gone. _

_ What would Wilbur say if I burned the flag? _

Again, he feels the same flash of rage. Like Wilbur would care. If Fundy burned the flag, maybe Wilbur would at least  _ notice _ him. Maybe for once Wilbur would acknowledge his existence.

_ Wilbur may have been my father… _

_ But I was never his son. _

Fundy’s resolve hardens. He jams the torch in between his teeth, careful not to let it go out or singe his fur, and begins to climb. 

_ Who cares what Wilbur thinks. _

_ If I do this, Schlatt will praise me. _

_ Schlatt will praise me. _

_ That’s all that matters now. _

The flag is directly above his head now. Fundy digs his claws into the wood of the flagpole and pulls the torch out of his mouth. The fire burns brighter than ever, flickering and waving. He hesitates for barely a second.

_ Should I do this? _

Wilbur’s face, disappointed and angry, flashes in his mind. 

Fundy lets out a cry of frustration and rage, and thrust the torch upwards.

He stays there for a moment then drops the torch to the ground, letting the fall extinguish the fire. Then Fundy follows, dropping lightly to the ground.

When he looks up, flames are licking at the L’manberg flag. 

Emotions flood through Fundy, almost overwhelming him. Anger, guilt, sadness, regret, despair, confusion, frustration… 

And  _ joy. _

Heat washes over Fundy from the flames, and he spreads his arms wide, a wild laugh escaping his mouth. 

_ Who’s incapable now, Wilbur? _

_ WHO’S INCAPABLE NOW?!?! _

A terrible scream cuts through the night, but it doesn’t come from Fundy. The fox whirls around to see two figures standing on the path behind him. Eret. Niki. Both of Niki’s hands are clamped tightly over her mouth, and Eret’s mouth is open in shock. Fundy barely has time to process this when Niki’s running forward. 

“HOW COULD YOU?” Niki screams. Fundy’s eyes widen and Niki barrels into him, almost knocking him over. “HOW COULD YOU!”

“Niki, I-” Fundy stammers, unsure what to say.

Niki slugs him across the face. Fundy’s head snaps sideways with the force of the blow and by the time he’s recovered, Niki’s screaming in his face again. “I TRUSTED YOU! I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU BETRAY ME! HOW COULD YOU?!?!?”

“Wha-”

“Water,” Eret mumbles, backing up. “Water. We need water!” He turns on his heel and takes off running. 

Fundy stumbles away from Niki. This doesn’t deter her though, and she grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him so hard his jaw rattles. “I! TRUSTED! YOU!” Niki shrieks before shoving him away from her. Fundy falls back onto the ground, stunned as Niki collapses next to him. Tears are streaming down her face. “I trusted you,” she whispers, her voice cracking.

“Niki- Niki, I-” Fundy breaks off with a cough, smoke from the burning flag making it hard to breath.

The smoke doesn’t seem to affect her though. Niki’s chest heaves as she tears up fistfuls of grass. Finally Niki looks up at Fundy. Her brown eyes reflect the flames as she murmurs, “You fucked up.”

The words might as well be a knife to the gut. Fundy’s ears flatten against his skull, and he shrinks back. He recognizes those words. That’s what Tommy had said to Eret.

_ Niki thinks I’m a traitor. _

“No, Niki, no, I’m not a- I’m not a traitor, Niki, please, it’s just- Niki, I’m not a traitor!” Fundy’s voice rises and he shakes his head wildly. “I AM NOT THE TRAITOR HERE!”

Niki doesn’t respond, still shaking with sobs. Fundy scrambles to his feet and bumps into the flagpole. Doubt floods in.  _ Was that- did I- am I- but I was just- but it’s his fault- this- I just wanted his- please, I don’t want Niki to-  _

Mind whirling, Fundy takes off at a run. He doesn’t know where he’s going and he doesn’t particularly care. He just wants to get away, get away from this place, get away from Niki, get away from everything.

_ I am not the traitor. _

_ If Wilbur had just spared a thought for me… _

_ But he didn’t. _

The fox glances over his shoulder. The flag still burns, bright against the black night sky.

Fundy knows where his allegiances lie. 


	7. Alliance

Several uneventful days pass. Tommy busies himself with venturing further into the ravine that’s now their home. It’s not too shabby, to his surprise. The crack in the earth goes deeper than he’d originally thought it did, and with a few lanterns and half-formed bridges, it doesn’t look bad. So far Tommy’s been able to construct some unstable bridges and clear out the debris on the floor, and he’s started working on widening the ravine. The work is hard, especially with a simple iron pickaxe. Usually Tommy would think himself above that sort of work, but now it gives him something to do. Something to keep him busy. And he’s bizarrely proud of it. It may not be L’manberg, but it’s something.

While Tommy hollows out the ravine, Wilbur stays unusually quiet. He spends most of his days sitting silently in the upper part of their makeshift home. Tommy tried talking to him at first, but quickly gave up on it. Nothing he says makes Wilbur respond. It worries Tommy. That’s not like Wilbur. Ever since they discovered the walls being torn down, Wilbur’s been in this state. It’s… frightening.

What’s more frightening are the days when Wilbur disappears entirely. Tommy’s come to anticipate these but when it first happened, he had been terrified. Wilbur had simply vanished into thin air, leaving no hint of where he might have gone. Tommy had thought Wilbur had abandoned him, going into a mortified daze and unable to work for the rest of the day. Eventually he’d fallen asleep, and when he woke up Wilbur was sitting across from him, eyes wide and vacant. Tommy never questioned it, too relieved to have Wilbur back, and Wilbur had never explained it. And although it’s become a regular occurance, Tommy still feels a flash of panic every time he wakes up to find Wilbur gone.

Today is one of those days. 

_ CHINK. CHINK. CHINK. _

Tommy swings the pickaxe with more force every time. The physical labor might keep his hands busy, but it certainly doesn’t keep his mind busy. He wants to do something. Something more than just sit in a ravine and hide.

_ CHINK. CHINK. CHINK. _

A particularly hard chunk of granite catches his attention. Tommy jams the pickaxe into it, trying to dislodge the granite. Why aren’t they trying to fight back against Schlatt? It wasn’t necessarily a fair win. They have every right to take it back, right?

_ CHINK. CHINK. CHINK. _

He wonders what Tubbo’s doing right now. A sharp ache spreads from his chest at the thought of his friend. 

_ Tubbo, I wanted to go back for you. If it were up to me, you’d be here right now. But it’s… it’s not up to me.  _

Rage flares through Tommy and he swings the pickaxe even harder.

_ CHINK. CHINK. CHINK. _

They could have gotten Tubbo out. They could have saved him. But Wilbur said no. 

“Wilbur isn’t even HERE!” Tommy shouts angrily, hurling his pickaxe at the wall. His voice reverberates around the ravine. 

What has Wilbur done the past several days? He’s just sat in silence, refusing to acknowledge the world. He hasn’t done anything to get rid of Schlatt or to help Tubbo. Tommy’s done all the work, and even working overtime he can’t manage for the both of them. Being so accustomed to only caring for himself, Tommy’s barely managed to keep the two of them fed. Soon enough they’ll run out of supplies. He’ll have to go into Manberg and steal supplies…

And Tommy knows he’s not strong enough to manage that.

_ Wilbur’s not here… you could go get help. He wouldn’t know until it’s too late, and then he’d have to accept the help. _

He frowns.

_ Oh come on, you know exactly who you need to get. _

Tommy’s already walking up towards the entrance to the ravine before his mind’s fully made up. There’s only one possible option. Only one person that would possibly agree to what Wilbur and Tommy- really, probably just Tommy- are thinking about doing. 

_ Only one person strong enough to actually be of some use.  _

He sets off at a brisk pace, remembering where Wilbur had led him when they had tried going to L’manberg a few days ago. If he knows anything about the person he needs, he knows he’ll be as close to the action as possible. Not taking part in the action. But watching from a distance. Getting just enough information to keep him informed. 

_ I know he split off shortly after Will did. My bet is that he kept track of Wilbur. He’ll be somewhere around here. I just need to pinpoint his location and… _

Nerves set in the closer Tommy gets to L’manberg. What if Tommy’s wrong? What if he guessed wrong? What if he’s not in the area at all, and actually set off on his own? Wilbur’s always been better at interpreting his movements than Tommy. What if Tommy’s completely off?

L’manberg is fast approaching. Tommy adjusts his course to circle the city. If Tommy’s correct, he should be somewhere around here. 

_ Come on Tommy, come on Tommy, you know this! He can’t be that hard to track down, he’s just a pig, you can find him, why is this so HARD- _

Unexpectedly something lightly brushes against Tommy’s face. Tommy screams and jumps back, batting wildly at his face, forgetting all about discretion. “HOLY SHIT! Holy shit, holy shit, holy-”

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.  _ That was probably nothing. Probably just a stray branch or… _

Slowly Tommy looks up at the thing that had caused his minor freak-out. A few strands of long, pink hair are entangled on a tree branch, fluttering gently in the breeze. Several of the surrounding branches are broken, almost as if they were hacked off.

_ He’s definitely here. _

“Hello- hello?” Tommy calls out tentatively. 

Dead silence greets him, but that doesn’t deter Tommy. There’s a strange crawling sensation over his skin, like he’s being watched. And he almost definitely is.

“Hello?” His voice picks up confidence. “Uh… bro? You here?”

A flash of pink and white catches his eye and Tommy whips around. “Oh come on, I know you’re here! I saw you!”

No one answers. Tommy’s heart sinks. He… he probably imagined it. In his desperation for help…

A deep sigh echoes through the trees. Tommy looks up, hardly daring to believe it. Slowly he turns around, and comes face to face with his brother.

Tommy’s face splits into a wide grin. “Hey Technoblade.”

Techno lets out another long sigh. “So you’ve finally tracked me down. Who put you up to it? Dream? Wilbur?” He lowers his voice. “Philza?”

“Who put me up to- no one put me up to it!” Tommy says, disgruntled. “Wilbur doesn’t even know I- I don’t even- Techno, what the fuck?”

“Oh yeah, you’ve been living with Wilbur, haven’t you?” Techno talks right over Tommy. “How’re you even still alive?”

“Techno, that’s not- that’s not even what I came to you for! Look, we… we need your… your...” 

“My what?”

“GOD DAMNIT TECHNO, WE NEED YOUR FUCKING HELP!” Tommy yells. 

Techno doesn’t blink. “Okay.”

Tommy, on the other hand, does blink. “You’re agreeing that easily?”

“Sure.” Techno pulls at the end of his pink braid absent-mindedly. “What do I need to do? Stab someone? I’m assuming it’s stab people. Usually when people want my help, it’s stabbing people.” He yawns. “Or potatoes. Do you need help with potatoes?” 

“No, no, it’s…” Tommy sighs. “It’s obviously the first one.”

His brother slowly circles him, looking him up and down. “What did you do this time?”

He ignores the unsettling feeling he gets as Techno circles him. “Actually, it’s, ah, not really  _ my _ fault, but- whatever. Have you ever heard of Jschlatt?”

“Uh.” Techno pokes Tommy’s stomach right where the scar is, provoking a hiss of pain from Tommy. “Sure. Guy with the horns, right?”

“Do that again and I’ll stab you,” Tommy warns. Techno snorts a laugh, and Tommy continues talking. “Yeah, uh, Wilbur and I started a country and Schlatt kinda, you know, took it over. Then he kicked us out. We live in a hole now.”

Technoblade’s eyes flash red, so quick Tommy could’ve imagined it. “You’re overthrowing the government?”

“I…” Tommy hesitates. Neither Wilbur or him had really discussed it. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

Suddenly there’s a loud  _ SNAP _ from the trees above them. Both Tommy and Techno freeze and look up. There’s a muffled curse, rustling, a yelp, and Ponk falls out of the tree, crashing to the ground in front of them. 

For a split second, nobody moves. Then Techno leans to Tommy and asks, “Is he on our-”

“Nope,” Tommy answers.

Ponk leaps to his feet and takes off towards L’manberg. Tommy shouts in alarm and runs after him. No, no, no, no. He can’t let Ponk report back to Schlatt. If he does, they’re doomed, Schlatt can’t know that they’ve gotten Technoblade-

Techno outstrips both of them, racing past Tommy. Ponk wheels around, but it’s too late. In one fluid motion, Techno unsheathes the sword at his hip and swings it in a deadly arc of netherite. The flat of the blade catches Ponk in the chest and he stumbles to a halt, coughing heavily. Still in motion, Techno spins around and rams the hilt of his sword into Ponk’s head. Ponk’s eyes roll back, and he collapses in a heap. 

Tommy catches up to them, panting. “How did you- you didn’t kill him, right?”

“Do you want me to?” Techno asks. There’s frighteningly little emotion in his voice, and Tommy shakes his head vigorously. 

“No, no no, don’t kill- why would you even- no, we’re not killing him.” Tommy looks down at Ponk, sprawled at their feet. “Just… incapacitate him. He can’t report back to Schlatt.” 

The other man shrugs, sheathing his sword again. “Alright.” Techno studies Ponk for a moment, then brings his foot down hard on Ponk’s ankle. Tommy flinches at the nasty snap that resounds through the trees. 

“Okay we probably have to go,” Tommy says, casting a worried glance over his shoulder at L’manberg. “We aren’t exactly quiet, and who knows if Ponk was alone or not? Reinforcements could come any moment now-”

“You haven’t been keeping up with current events, have you?”

Tommy stops talking. Technoblade tilts his head sideways, studying Tommy with a calculating gaze. “There won’t be reinforcements. They don’t have any. Even I could see that, and I’ve barely been paying attention. Whoever’s in power- Schlatt, you said?- isn’t doing a good job of keeping everyone together.”

“I thought you don’t keep track of what’s happening in L’manberg.”

“Do you think you’re the only one who’s passed through here? People talk. I’ve picked up on a few things.” Techno pauses. “And I think people are calling it Manberg now?”

“MANBERG?” Tommy yelps. Techno nods distractedly. “WHAT THE FUCK- ohhh my god, Wilbur’s not going to be happy.” 

Suddenly Tommy remembers. “Oh fuck, Wilbur!”

Techno snorts. “I amend my original question. What did Wilbur do this time?”

“He’s been… wandering,” Tommy admits. “He doesn’t- you don’t need to worry about it. As long as we get back to the ravine, Wilbur won’t worry either. C’mon, let’s go.”

Excitement rushes through Tommy as he leads Techno through the trees.  _ I have the Blade.  _

_ We have a chance now. _


	8. It Might Be Nice

“Tommy?”

The name echoes through the ravine. It’s the first time Wilbur’s said anything in days. He’s been silent for much longer than he’s used to, not even singing. The only song that comes into his head is the anthem.

_ My L’manberg… _

“Tommy?” he calls again. “Tommy, are you here?”

Absolute silence greets him. Wilbur swallows hard. Tommy wouldn’t leave him, right? He wouldn’t. Tommy’s too loyal to even think of leaving. 

_ Did he get hurt? _

Now fear sets in. “Tommy, answer me!” Wilbur demands.

Again, no one responds. Panic rushes through Wilbur. If Tommy’s hurt or dead, then Wilbur’s failed. He’s failed as a president, failed as a general, failed as a leader, failed as a brother-

“TOMMYINNIT ANSWER ME!”

_ No. Tommy isn’t gone. I don’t accept that. He didn’t leave, he didn’t get hurt, he’s not dead- _

“Wilbur? You back yet?”

Wilbur freezes at the sound of Tommy’s voice and relief floods him.  _ He’s alive. _ “I’m down here,” he calls out, his voice hoarse with unuse. “Hang on, I’m coming up.” 

He’s starting up one of the bridges when Tommy pokes his head out from the ravine entrance. “Uh, Wilbur, actually I thought we could stay down here and talk-”

“It’s too cold down here,” Wilbur says dismissively, hiding the warning bells in his mind. Tommy’s hiding something. “And besides, all the dust down here isn’t good for our lungs, and as I’m sure you can hear, my voice isn’t at it’s best and I’d love for it not to get worse.”

He pushes on, despite Tommy’s protests. The younger boy grabs his arm. “Wait, Wilbur, before you go up there, I have to explain-”

Wilbur shoves past Tommy and walks into the initial ravine opening. “Now see, isn’t this better? Personally I much prefer the sun-”

Tommy winces as Wilbur’s voice trails off. “Yeah. I, ah… yeah.”

Stone-faced, Wilbur stands stock still in the entrance to the ravine. “You’re here,” is all he says. 

Technoblade looks up from the skeleton horse he’s stroking. “Hey Wilbur.”

_ It’s Technoblade.  _

_ Tommy got fucking Technoblade. _

_ The three of us. Back together. _

_ He can help. He’s strong enough to take down Schlatt alone if he wanted to.  _

_ I can use this. _

_ I do NOT want his help. I don’t NEED his help. I can do this on my own. _

_ But… clearly we’re struggling. Without aid, we’re going to die. That’s just a fact. _

_ I DO NOT WANT HIS HELP.  _

“Tommy, go back into the ravine. Go… clean up the walls or something. I don’t care.” The words come out sharper than intended but Wilbur doesn’t care, eyes still locked on Techno.

Tommy opens his mouth then closes it, smiling nervously at Techno. Techno raises an eyebrow. “Tommy, you said he knew about this. Clearly he had no idea-”

“Just go,” Wilbur says through gritted teeth. Tommy lets out a worried laugh and takes the horse by the reins.

“I’ll just… take care of this. This horse,” Tommy says weakly and walks off into the woods with the horse, leaving Wilbur with Techno.

_ Just the two of us. _

“So,” Techno says finally. “I heard you guys might need some assistance.” 

A strangled laugh escapes Wilbur’s throat. “Might need some- how the fuck did you get here.” His tone doesn’t make it a question. 

“Well Tommy just walked into my section of the woods and screamed.” Techno chuckles. “We talked for, like, two minutes until Ponk fell out of a tree. Uh, we chased down Ponk, Tommy led me through Manberg, we stole Fundy’s horse, Tommy punched Quackity and threatened to punch Hbomb- this is for you, by the way.” He holds out a tan trench coat. “And, uh, then Tommy led me out of Manberg and now I’m here.”

Wilbur closes his eyes. “Of course Tommy would. Of course he’d go out and- of course.”

“Do you want the trench coat or-”

“Cut the bullshit,” Wilbur hisses. “I know you. I know you wouldn’t just drop everything to come and help us, especially at Tommy’s request. Why did you leave Phil? Why are you really here?”

“I do want to help, you know,” Techno says slowly. 

“CUT THE BULLSHIT!” Wilbur shouts. Techno actually takes a step back. “I KNOW YOU! You’re not here just to help. There’s something else you want, there’s no point in trying to hide it, so just TELL ME!”

Technoblade’s eyes harden. “Are you really asking me for a motive?”

Wilbur glares at him. “Yes. I am.”

Tense silence stretches out as the brothers stare each other down. Wilbur doesn’t bother to keep his stance relaxed, fully aware that it’ll make Techno gear up for a fight. Wilbur  _ wants _ a fight. He wants to be able to do something, to fight someone. If he can’t fight Schlatt, fine. A fight with Technoblade would be risky, but Wilbur will do it. He’s furious enough to stand a chance.

_ Fight me. _

_ Fight me, Technoblade. _

“Well, I’ve hidden the… horse…” Tommy’s voice trails off, and both Techno and Wilbur whip around. Tommy stands a couple meters away, eyes wide as he takes in the scene. 

The tension slowly dissolves with the arrival of Tommy. Techno hunches his shoulders, and Wilbur sullenly snatches the trench coat. “Give me that. I need to think.” 

Tommy lets out a jittery laugh as Wilbur sulks back into the ravine. A chill sweeps over him as he gets deeper into the ravine, and Wilbur wraps the trench coat around himself. It’s surprisingly warm and Wilbur pulls it tighter, trying to absorb as much of the warmth as possible.

_ Technoblade. _

_ I don’t want him here. _

_ I don’t need his interference. _

_ I can do this on my own. _

As deep into the ravine as he can go, Wilbur slides down into a seated position. There aren’t any torches down here, but he doesn’t care about the darkness. In fact, it’s almost comforting in a way.

_ Tommy went and got fucking Technoblade. _

Wilbur stares blankly at the wall, his thoughts whirling. Technoblade. Agreeing to help them fight Schlatt. 

When did that become the plan? When did fighting become their goal?

Of course, now that they have Techno on their side, fighting’s the only option, right? Techno’s a renowned fighter. His skills in combat rival Dream’s. He’s even beaten Dream in a fight. With Technoblade as an ally, they wouldn’t have to worry about being outnumbered. They’d have fucking Technoblade.

_ He’d help with supplies too. _

Whether or not it was Tommy’s original intention with getting him, Techno would definitely help with supplies. Wilbur, unlike others, can see right past the use in Techno’s military prowess. Back when they were living with Phil, Techno spent an unholy amount of time farming and gathering supplies. If he can get Techno to do the same here, they’d be better supplied than anyone in L’manberg.

_ Manberg. Techno said Manberg. _

_ Schlatt must have renamed it. _

_ Bastard. _

No, they definitely have to fight. And with Technoblade? They have a fighting chance. 

_ So I have to accept Techno. _

He’ll take Techno’s help. That’s not really what Wilbur finds issue with. 

_ What if he tries to take over? _

Fear creeps in at the edges of Wilbur’s mind. Wilbur’s already lost a considerable amount of the power he had fought to gain. His reason for leaving Philza in the first place had been to get away from his role in the family. He wanted power of his own. 

And for a brief moment, he had that power.

But he’d lost it. He’d lost his position, to  _ Schlatt _ of all people. The only reason Wilbur has some semblance of control is because of Tommy.

_ With Techno here… _

_ I’ll lose any scrap of power I’ve held on to.  _

_ Tommy obviously holds Techno higher than he holds me. Slowly but surely he’s going to stop listening to me and turn his attention to Techno. _

There’s no doubt that his older brother commands more respect than Wilbur ever will. He has more of a presence. He’s better in battle. He has that air of quiet intimidation about him. Wilbur has none of those. There’s nothing to give him a leg up on Techno. It’s only a matter of time before Techno starts making the decisions and calling the shots. 

_ No. No, no, no. I can’t…  _

_ I can’t let that happen. That’s not- I cannot let that happen. I cannot lose this power again. _

Wilbur snarls and slams his fist into the stone wall. Inevitably they’re going to clash with each other. Tommy’ll get caught in the middle. There’ll be a fight, and while they’re fighting, Schlatt will swoop in and take advantage of them while they’re weak. No. Wilbur needs to make sure that Techno and Tommy know who’s in charge. Then he’ll have enough power to take down Schlatt. He’ll get L’manberg back. 

“Stay in control,” he murmurs quietly to himself. Wilbur punches the walls again, lighter this time, trying to relieve the stress. “Keep it together, Soot. You are the leader here. Act it.”

_ Slow burning fuse. I might not be the president- yet- but I am still their leader. Now act like it.  _

He carefully rearranges his expression to one that’s blank and neutral. It won’t fool Techno and it probably won’t fool Tommy either, but it’s still a safe expression. A mask. If he’s confident enough in his act, they won’t question it. And if he’s successful in keeping up the act, they’ll believe it.

Wilbur stands up slowly and adjusts the trench coat as he makes his way back up to where Tommy and Techno wait. It really is a nice coat. How did Tommy manage to score something so nice? 

When Wilbur reaches the entrance to the ravine, he’s greeted by quite a familiar site. Tommy’s managed to get Techno’s sword embedded in a rock. He tugs at the hilt to no avail while Techno shakes with silent laughter. Warmth flashes briefly in Wilbur’s chest.

_ We’re a family again. _

“Ahem.” Wilbur clears his throat, catching their attention. “Technoblade… look, we cannot trust you. We have to pick and choose our allies, and we can’t choose anyone who might betray us. But, everyone else has betrayed so far. The only two people we may be able to trust are Tubbo and Niki, and even then, Tubbo’s been by Schlatt’s side ever since we got kicked out.” He looks down and sighs. “We… we need allies. I have to let you join us.”

Techno doesn’t appear bothered by Wilbur’s outright statement of distrust. “Okay.”

“We-” The words are almost painful to say. “Techno, if I let you join us, you need to prove yourself.”

“I can train you,” Techno offers. “Show you what I do in battle. Also I can provide food. Potatoes, mostly.” He meets Wilbur’s eyes without hesitation.

Wilbur gives the tiniest nod. “Training would be, ah, much appreciated. So you’re in?”

“Overthrowing democratically elected governments?” Techno cracks a grin, exposing the small tusks jutting from his lower jaw. “Tell me what I need to do.”

_ Huh. _

Wilbur stares at Techno while Tommy lets out an excited whoop. That was an agreement. An unspoken understanding. 

_ He knows exactly what I’m afraid of. He’s just choosing not to.  _

_ I can’t trust him fully. Not yet. _

He has to tread carefully.

Or Wilbur will lose it all again.


	9. Spy Again

“You know what your job is, right Tubbo?”

Schlatt grins down at Tubbo. Uncomfortable under his gaze, Tubbo shifts his weight from foot to foot. He doesn’t know the right answer. If he answers wrong, will he be yelled at? Tubbo doesn’t want that. 

“Actually I’m, uh, I’m not really sure…” Tubbo fixes his eyes on the tuft of grass at his feet. His voice is small and weak. “I’m not entirely sure what my role is.”

He feels Schlatt’s body language change and swallows, bracing for some sort of punishment. Tubbo shouldn’t have said that. Lying would have been better. If he had just said something as simple as “yes” then Schlatt would have believed him.

_ This isn’t L’manberg. Schlatt isn’t Wilbur. I can’t… I can’t be honest here. Make the difference, Tubbo. _

The president lets out a long sigh. “Tubbo-”

“Schlatt!”

Tubbo’s saved by the arrival of Quackity. He skids to a halt next to Schlatt and Tubbo, breathing heavily. When he looks up, Tubbo sees the bruise swelling over Quackity’s eye. “Schlatt, explain something for me,” he gasps out.

Schlatt’s expression shifts into one of tired annoyance. “Yes, Quackity?”

“Tell me why I saw  _ fucking Technoblade _ running through the city!” Quackity’s eyes are wild. “TECHNOBLADE! Running through Manberg with  _ Tommyinnit!” _

For a moment there’s utter silence. Schlatt stands motionless, his face devoid of emotion. Tubbo’s breath hitches. 

_ Technoblade? _

_ Tommy got Technoblade? _

A sudden burst of euphoria erupts in Tubbo’s chest. If Tommy got Technoblade, then he and Wilbur stand a chance. They can take down Schlatt and get Tubbo out. With Technoblade on their side, it should be almost effortless.

Tubbo’s face starts splitting into a wide smile. Then he remembers, and forces his mouth shut. This is not L’manberg. Schlatt doesn’t want to see his happiness at Technoblade’s arrival. 

“And you didn’t stop Tommy?” Schlatt asks, his voice eerily calm.

Quackity makes a strange noise that isn’t quite a laugh. “What, do you think I got this bruise by running into a pole? Of course I tried to stop them, but what’d you expect me to do against fucking Technoblade? Schlatt, if Tommy and Wilbur have Technoblade on their side-”

“He’s not on their side,” Schlatt says calmly. 

This shuts Quackity up. Tubbo’s heart sinks in an instant. “What- what do you mean?” he blurts out.

“Technoblade is not on their side,” Schlatt repeats. Tubbo’s almost afraid to look at him, sure he’ll be sporting that horrible grin. He looks up anyways, and is surprised to see that Schlatt’s face is still blank. “I’ve recruited him.”

“How do you know he’s on our side?” Quackity demands. “He’s their brother, I’d be surprised if he decided to fight against them, and why would he fight for us anyways? We can’t give him a fight, he has no reason to join us, do I even need to go on?”

“Technoblade is with us. Since Tubbo failed to do the one thing I asked of him-” Schlatt glares at Tubbo. Tubbo shrinks back. “-I needed to call in a favor. Technoblade will do what Tubbo didn’t. He’ll bring Wilbur and Tommy back, and kill them.”

Tubbo keeps his expression neutral, fully aware that Schlatt’s watching him.  _ No. Tommy won’t die. Neither Tommy or Wilbur will die. Schlatt has to be bluffing. _

_ He’s bluffing, right? _

That’s the thing with Schlatt. Tubbo can’t get a good read on him. Usually he’s good at figuring out people, figuring out their motivations, personalities, strengths, weaknesses. But Schlatt’s too… unpredictable. Too fluid. Every time Tubbo thinks he knows Schlatt, Schlatt changes. His actions are completely unpredictable.

“Honestly, Tubbo, I don’t know why I keep you around. You fail the one job I give you, you can’t do shit, I mean, really.”

The words jolt Tubbo out of his thoughts. Panic floods through him and Tubbo frantically stammers, “No, no, no, I don’t- you don’t have to- nonono, Schlatt, I’m- you don’t understand, when Wilbur doesn’t want to be found it’s near impossible- Schlatt, I’m trying, I’m trying, but-”

“Tubbo’s your right hand man,” Quackity says slowly. “I’m sure he’s trying his best. Wilbur and Tommy had a huge headstart on him. Give him time and he’ll find them.”

Schlatt rolls his eyes. “I don’t care. Just as long as Wilbur and Tommy are brought back and killed.” He goes quiet for a moment, looking pensive. Then Schlatt rubs at his horns. “I need a drink.” He strides off towards the white house, not bothering to see if Quackity and Tubbo follow.

Quackity meets Tubbo’s eyes. Tubbo tenses up, unsure if Quackity’s going to yell at him or not, but the other man just nods. His face is a mixture of sympathy and sadness. 

_ He protected me. _

Tubbo blinks, startled. He’d assumed Quackity was firmly on Schlatt’s side. He’d also assumed that Quackity didn’t like him. After all, Schlatt’s favoring Tubbo for no reason. By all means he should be favoring his vice president rather his adversaries best friend. It seemed natural that Quackity would dislike Tubbo. But Quackity had just defended him against Schlatt. 

_ Why would he do that? _

While Tubbo stands dumbfounded, Quackity smiles. “Stay safe,” he mutters before heading off in the direction Schlatt had went.

_ Was I wrong? _

_ Is Quackity safe? _

He pushes aside the thought. Tubbo knows that he should probably make that decision- the more people he deems safe, the more people he knows he can trust- but any more stress and Tubbo’s going to shatter into a million pieces. 

Take it one problem at a time. That’s what he needs to do. And the most pressing problem at the moment is that Tubbo’s  _ tired. _ He hasn’t really slept since the day before the election. Fear had kept him from sleeping more than an hour or two at a time. Technically he has a place to sleep, but it’s  _ Tommy’s _ house. Tubbo can’t stay there. He doubts Schlatt would allow it and even if he did, there’s too many memories. Memories that Tubbo can’t afford to be having if he wants to survive. 

Tubbo wanders aimlessly towards the edge of Manberg’s boundaries. It’s much harder to mark said boundaries without the walls, but Tubbo knows the territory like the back of his hand. He needs a place where he can build himself a new house. Then, finally, he can get some sleep. 

Maybe here would be a good location? No. This is where the camarvan used to stand. And then Schlatt had it torn down. 

_ Too many memories. _

He blinks furiously, trying to shake off his tiredness. He needs to focus. There has to be some place in Manberg where Tubbo can sleep without being bombarded by memories. Tubbo just needs to find that place. It can’t be that hard. He lets out a long yawn, and keeps walking. 

Something flashes at the corner of his eye. Tubbo stops in his tracks. There had been movement, he’s sure of it. Someone had ducked behind Eret’s tower.

_ Who was that? _

“Hello?” he calls out tentatively. “Is someone- is someone here?”

Dead silence. Tubbo frowns. He could have sworn that someone was there. “Hello?” He steps closer to the tower. “You don’t need to hide-”

Suddenly there’s the cold touch of metal at his neck. Tubbo freezes, and someone’s hand clamps over his mouth. “Stay quiet,” Technoblade murmurs, voice deadly calm.

Tubbo remains absolutely still, heart pounding. Technoblade stands directly behind him, sword pressed against Tubbo’s throat. Tubbo hadn’t even noticed his presence, too focused on the movement behind Eret’s tower.

“Tubbo?”

Tubbo’s eyes go wide. He doesn’t move, very aware of Technoblade’s threat, but… he recognizes that voice.

_ Tommy? _

Slowly, Tommy steps out from behind Eret’s tower. Tubbo practically cries at the sight of his best friend. Tommy’s unharmed, albeit a bit skinnier, and his arms are full of supplies. His eyes are just as wide as Tubbo’s.

“Is he on our side or not?” Technoblade asks. Tubbo flinches as the sword presses deeper into his throat. 

Tommy starts to nod, but pauses and glances sideways. Tubbo carefully turns his head to follow Tommy’s gaze, and sees Wilbur standing in the shadow of the tower. Relief rushes through Tubbo. Wilbur’s back. He, Tommy, and Technoblade can take down Schlatt and then everything can return to normal.

Wilbur studies Tubbo with calculating eyes. “I don’t know,” he says slowly. “Are you on our side, Tubbo? When we were kicked out, Schlatt order you to hunt us down. And Tubbo, you obeyed his orders. So I don’t know. Can we trust him? Is Tubbo on our side?”

Tubbo’s heart sinks.  _ Wilbur doesn’t trust me? But…  _

Tommy gives voice to his thoughts. “Wilbur, this is  _ Tubbo! _ Of course- why wouldn’t we trust Tubbo?”

Technoblade’s sword is still steady at Tubbo’s throat. Wilbur tilts his head sideways. “Tubbo was sent to hunt us down. Schlatt- who is not the rightful president- told him to track us down and kill us. Tubbo did what Schlatt told him to.” Wilbur looks back at Tubbo, and Tubbo shrinks back, momentarily forgetting about Technoblade. He feels pinned under Wilbur’s gaze. It’s unnerving. 

“Wilbur, it’s- I’m sure Tubbo was just-” Tommy starts to speak, but Wilbur cuts him off.

“But of course  _ you  _ trust Tubbo, Tommy. He’s your Tubbo! Tubbo in a box! Remember that?” Wilbur’s face breaks out into a cracked smile. Tommy recoils, and Tubbo doesn’t blame him. It isn’t a happy, natural smile. It looks forced, desperate.

It reminds Tubbo of Schlatt.

“Look, Tommy-” Wilbur’s gaze softens. “I know you trust Tubbo. But we can’t take him out of Manberg.”

“With Tubbo in Manberg, he could spy on Schlatt,” Technoblade says thoughtfully, the hand over Tubbo’s mouth relaxing. “We’d have a spy in Manberg.” 

Wilbur stares at Technoblade for a moment. “Tubbo as a spy,” he repeats. He turns to Tommy. “You’d like that, right? Tubbo as our spy? Tubbo the spy? Spying on Manberg for us?”

Tommy’s silent for a moment. Then he looks directly at Tubbo. “Do you want to?” he asks quietly. “Spy on Schlatt, that is.”

Tubbo starts. He’d assumed that his fate was out of his hands. But Tommy’s asking him what he wants. 

_ What  _ do _ I want? _

Clearing his throat, Tommy looks pointedly at Technoblade. “For fuck’s sake, let go of him, Techno.”

Technoblade drops his hand completely from Tubbo’s mouth and lowers his sword. Tubbo rubs his throat, glancing warily at Technoblade. He doesn’t trust the older man. Schlatt had said that Technoblade was on Manberg’s side. But Wilbur and Tommy seem absolutely confident that Techno’s with them. 

_ Can I trust him? _

“Tubbo.”

Wilbur’s voice is sharp. “Will you spy on Schlatt for us?”

“Well- I mean…” Tubbo catches Tommy’s eye. His friend is staring at him intently, face a mixture of worry and hope. 

_ I can get Tommy and Wilbur back. _

Tubbo straightens up. “Yes. I’ll- I’ll be your spy. I can spy on Schlatt. I can do that.”

“YES!” Tommy shouts, dropping the supplies and rushing forward. Tubbo barely has time to brace himself before Tommy barrels into him, wrapping his arms around Tubbo with a delighted laugh. Tubbo tries and fails to keep in a laugh of his own. It just feels so  _ good _ to be reunited with Tommy. It feels right.

Tommy steps back, still beaming from ear to ear. “Holy shit, Tubbo, I missed you so- look, I stole this from Fundy!” He tugs proudly at the bright green bandana wrapped around his neck. “See, it reminded me of you because it’s green- God, you look  _ awful _ in that suit.”

“Schlatt’s making us wear them.” Tubbo runs his fingers along his collar. “I did convince him to let me have a red tie though, like your shirt-”

“That bastard,” hisses Tommy. “I can’t believ he- now that you can spy for us, we can take him down! Put Wilbur back on the podium! And Tubbo, we have the Blade! Techno’s on our side!”

Before Tubbo can voice his concerns on that, Wilbur’s shadow falls over him. Wilbur smiles down at him. “You understand why we can’t bring you out, right? Why we need you to be our spy?”

“Yeah,” Tubbo says slowly. Something about Wilbur’s smile is strange, offputting. “If I’m in Manberg, I can provide you you with valuable information. You can use it to take down Schlatt.”

“Good.” Wilbur moves his hand to Tubbo’s shoulder and Tubbo unconsciously flinches away, the touch too similar to Schlatt’s. Worry flashes across Wilbur’s face, but he doesn’t say anything else regarding the matter. “C’mon, Tommy. Technoblade. We can’t stay in Manberg.”

Tommy reluctantly nods and scoops up the supplies he had dropped. “Yeah, we should probably get out.” He pats Tubbo’s arm affectionately and grins. “Don’t die, okay?”

Tubbo laughs half-heartedly. “I would prefer not to die.”

He watches the trio leave, varying emotions flurrying through his mind. Tubbo doesn’t want Tommy to leave him here with Schlatt. He’d much rather go with them. But Tubbo has a job now. He has to spy on Schlatt and report information back to Wilbur. Surely it can’t be that hard. Tubbo can do it.

So much for less stress.


	10. Bitter Work

“Again.”

Tommy groans, flat on his back on the ground. There’s a rock digging into his spine, his ankle hurts, and his head rings painfully. “Jesus, Techno, could you ease up?”

“Your opponents won’t go easy on you in a real battle.”

“Well this isn’t a real fucking battle!” Tommy shouts irritably. “Come on!”

Techno levels his sword at Tommy’s neck. “Get up. Try a different attack. Or try the same attack that you’ve been pushing for twenty minutes.” Techno raises an eyebrow. “See where it gets you.”

Batting away Techno’s sword and ignoring Wilbur’s snort of amusement, Tommy hauls himself to his feet. He eyes the iron sword lying at Techno’s feet. “You gonna give me that?”

“No,” Techno says flatly. Deliberately he adjusts his stance so he’s directly over the sword. “If you want it, you have to take it.”

Tommy curses loudly, but takes up his own stance.  _ Try a different attack. _ With Techno playing vigilante over his sword, Tommy won’t be able to do anything at all. He needs Techno to move, give him an opportunity to sneak in and snatch his weapon.  _ Do what I do best. Annoy the hell out of him until he moves. _

Slowly Tommy begins to walk, edging around the perimeter of the circle Techno had etched into the dirt. Techno stays still, idly twirling his sword. “Are you ever planning on attacking or-”

Tommy lunges. Techno turns on a dime, his blade swinging out at Tommy’s head. Tommy drops to his knees to avoid the sword, relying solely on his momentum to carry him forward. Surprisingly enough, the play works. The sword whistles inches above his head and Tommy skids right past Techno. As he passes, he snatches the sword from between Techno’s feet. The other man lets out a surprised noise, and Tommy jumps to his feet. “YES! HAHAHA-”

The hilt of Techno’s sword smacks into Tommy’s head. Stars burst in Tommy’s vision and he stumbles, falling back down to his knees. Dimly he sees metal flash, and he barely manages to block the blow.

“Gloating only gets you killed,” Techno says, his voice rising. He brings his sword down again, and once again, Tommy barely blocks it. 

“Techno,” Wilbur starts to say, but Techno’s already swinging the sword again. Tommy shouts and braces his own sword in both hands. Techno’s netherite sword comes down full force on Tommy’s iron one.

There’s an earsplitting, shimmery noise of metal on metal, and Tommy’s sword snaps clean in two.

“Technoblade!” Wilbur shouts. Tommy drops the broken halves of his sword, reeling from the force of the blow. Techno raises his sword to strike again.

_ MOVE! _

Tommy rolls sideways just as Technoblade’s sword slams into the dirt where Tommy had been only moments before. Immediately Tommy tenses, ready to move again, but Techno simply steps back, lowering his sword. “You’re over the line.”

“You almost fucking killed me!” Tommy gasps, scrambling backwards. “What the actual  _ fuck! _ I thought this was supposed to be training!”

“This  _ is _ training,” Techno says calmly. “If it’s not real, then you don’t learn. Your opponents won’t wait for you to recover from a blow. If I don’t make the threat real, then you’ll never get better. You have to get used it.”

“Who in their right fucking mind would BREAK MY FUCKING SWORD?” Tommy yells. “For fuck’s sake, ease up a bit!”

Techno ignores him and gestures at Wilbur. “Come on. You need training too. Two v one me. Your goal is to make me step out of the circle.”

Wilbur eyes the circle apprehensively. “Oh no, I don’t-”

“Yeah  _ Wilbur _ , get in here,” Tommy snaps, rubbing at his wrists. Wilbur shoots him a glare, but reluctantly moves forward to take his place in the circle. Tommy picks up the broken half of his sword. “Can I have something else to fight with?”

“No,” is Techno’s immediate answer. Tommy groans, but accepts it without arguing. There isn’t any point in arguing with Technoblade.

Once again, Techno takes up a stance in the center of the circle. Tommy stands up with a wince and shifts into his own stance. On the other side of the circle, Wilbur unsheathes the dagger he’d stolen from Quackity. He flips it in his hand and frowns. “This seems a little unfair.”

“Nothing is fair in battle,” Techno says. Tommy rolls his eyes. “And anyways, it’s a two v one. If anything, you two have the advantage.”

Tommy begins another slow circle around Techno. It somewhat worked last time. Surely it’ll work better with two people, right? Wilbur mirrors his movement so that both of them are slowly moving around Techno. 

_ Ooookay. I’ll wait for Wilbur to attack first, then I’ll jump in. Then I won’t get smacked around so fucking much. _

Plan set in his mind, Tommy waits for Wilbur’s move. The other man doesn’t make any indicative moves, apparently content to stay circling. His eyes are trained on Tommy, occasionally flickering over to Techno.

_ Is he even planning on attacking? _

Annoyance flares through Tommy, and he forgets about his original plan. He feints at Techno’s right but Techno doesn’t fall for it, instead lunging straight at Tommy. Tommy falls back with a yelp, and Wilbur darts forward. He jabs at Techno’s exposed side, and Techno twists out of the way just before the blow connects. His sword flicks out, slicing neatly across the front of Wilbur’s trench coat. Wilbur stumbles back, and Tommy takes the opportunity to strike. He’s raising his broken sword when Techno whirls to face him. Tommy prepares to block Techno’s sword, but instead Techno’s fist swings around and catches Tommy in the jaw.

Pain explodes through the lower half of Tommy’s face. His free hand flies to his mouth and he flails his sword wildly, trying to keep Techno away. Thankfully Techno’s already turned his attention back to Wilbur. Wilbur’s dancing on the edge of the circle, twisting and ducking around Techno’s blows. “Tommy,” he gasps out, barely managing to deflect Techno’s sword. “Get- over here- and help!”

Tommy eyes Techno nervously. His jaw aches fiercely, and little spots of black float across his vision. He doesn’t particularly want to fight Technoblade, especially after last round. Surely Wilbur can take him while Tommy recovers.

Wilbur throws himself forward in a roll, ducking under Techno’s sword and coming up right next to Tommy. “Gremlin,” he hisses. “Your turn.”

He barely has time to process what Wilbur means when sharp metal bites into his arm. Tommy yelps in pain and swings his sword without thinking. Techno ducks, and the flat of Tommy’s blade catches Wilbur in the stomach. Wilbur doubles over, wheezing, and Tommy freezes in place.

_ I just hit Wilbur. _

_ Oh shit. _

“Distractions get you killed!” Techno shouts. Without giving Tommy a chance to recover, he spins around and swings his foot up. Tommy brings his arms up defensively, forgetting about his sword.

Wrong move. Techno’s boot slams into the side of Tommy’s ribcage, knocking him to the ground. Tommy lets out a heavy cough, not caring that he’s on the edge of the circle, and rolls on to his back, propped up on his elbows. When he looks up, he finds himself staring down the bolt in Technoblade’s crossbow. And for a split second, Tommy doesn’t see Techno behind the crossbow.

Tommy sees Dream.

_ “Ten paces, fire!” _

_ His arrow misses. Dream’s does not. _

_ “TOMMY!” _

_ There’s a terrible, terrible cold sensation spreading through his abdomen. He can’t feel anything. Tommy fumbles at the arrow in his gut- _

Suddenly Techno grunts and stumbles. Tommy’s still frozen on the ground, hyperventilating, hands clutched to his stomach. Techno yanks out the dagger stuck in his calf and whirls around, backhanding Wilbur across the face. Wilbur flies back and collides with a tree, collapsing into the grass.

Techno steps back, panting. “I think we’re done here.”

Tommy moans, still clutching his gut.  _ No, no, no, no, it can’t- it’s just Technoblade, he wouldn’t- there isn’t- no, no, no it’s not- it’s not possible- it can’t- _

“Tommy, breathe.” Wilbur’s voice is quiet but sharp. “Just breathe. You’re fine. You’re safe. Technoblade isn’t going to do anything. Just. Breathe.”

Honing in on Wilbur’s voice, Tommy takes in a deep, shuddering breath.  _ It’s okay. _

_ Wilbur says I’m safe. _

_ I trust Wilbur. _

_ Dream isn’t here. _

_ It’s okay. _

_ It’s okay. _

Slowly he begins coming back into reality. Dream isn’t standing over him. It’s just Technoblade, rubbing his calf and muttering a curse. There’s no arrow in his stomach. All that remains of the injury is a gnarled scar and old bandages. He’s safe. Tommy’s safe with Wilbur and Technoblade.

“‘M okay,” he mumbles, pushing Wilbur’s hands away. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Fuck, Wilbur, you don’t need to hover over me.” 

Wilbur sits back on his heels. “Give it a rest, Tommy. I’m just checking. And if this fight has proven anything, it’s that I do need to hover over you. You can’t take care of your own sorry ass even when your life depends on it, your teammates can’t rely on you, you-”

“Can’t rely on  _ me?” _ Tommy sits straight up, ignoring the ache in his ribs. “You’re the one who left me to fight Techno by myself! Did you think I was going to fucking take him on my own? I try to catch a fucking break and you come up all ‘gremlin it’s your turn,’ holy shit-”

“I mean, both of you got out of the circle,” Techno pitches in. “You two just do  _ not _ work well together.”

Both Wilbur and Tommy shoots him dirty looks. Techno ignores them and continues. “Your fighting styles clash…  _ so _ much… honestly, I’m surprised you managed to win L’manberg, especially against Dream. I mean, he should have destroyed you, you should’ve been absolutely  _ destroyed _ . Like, I mean  _ destroyed.” _

Tommy’s hand goes back to his scar. “Thanks, Techno,” he deadpans.

Techno snorts and turns away. As Wilbur sullenly stands up and brushes off his trench coat, Tommy curls his knees up to his chest. No matter how much he wants to deny it, Techno’s right. He and Wilbur don’t fight well together. They’ve never gotten along very well, and they never will.

_ How have we gotten this far? _

And more importantly…

_ How much farther can we go before we fall? _


	11. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One quick thing: bolded italics represents chat or "the voices"

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_REVOLUTION._ **

**_POTATOES._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_VIVE LA REVOLUTION._ **

**_OVETHROW THE GOVERNMENT._ **

Technoblade crouches down to get a better look at the potato plants at his feet. They’re coming along surprisingly nicely, considering the conditions. He hadn’t had much to work with, just a few seeds and a measely stone hoe, but Techno knows how to get the most out of very little. His potatoes have made significant progress in the past couple days. 

And besides, sleep isn’t that important.

He runs his thumb over one of the leaves, frowning slightly. Techno could be doing better with the potatoes. They could be more developed. The potatoes aren’t quite ready to eat yet… but they  _ could _ be. He can do better than this.

**_FAIL._ **

**_F._ **

**_F._ **

**_F._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_F._ **

“God, Techno, you’re still awake?”

“Hm?” Techno stands up and glances around. He can just barely make out Wilbur’s shape on the other side of the potato field. “Oh. It’s you. Yeah, thought I’d check on the potatoes.”

Wilbur yawns. “It’s three in the morning. When was the last time you slept?”

“Techno never sleeps,” Techno says with a shrug. “Is it three in the morning?”

“Yes, it definitely is.” Wilbur wraps his trench coat tighter around himself. Techno sees the gash in the fabric and winces slightly. “You should probably get some sleep. We can’t overthrow Schlatt if our best player is sleep-deprived.”

**_OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_TECHNO NEVER SLEEPS._ **

**_ANARCHY._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

“You sound like Philza,” Techno counters, “and I beg to differ on the sleep deprivation thing. I wiped the floor with you yesterday. I don’t need sleep to be an effective fighter.”

Wilbur snorts. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

For a moment they stand in silence. Then Wilbur yawns again. “Well… I’m going to, ah… go back to sleep. Reckon you should do the same, but… yeah. G’night, Techno”

Techno watches Wilbur meander back towards the ravine. He’s been around the other man long enough to recongize when something’s wrong. Wilbur’s stressed. Probably overly stressed, maybe even to the point of paranoia. Schlatt’s victory made him bitter. Even Techno can see that the power Wilbur had so briefly held had gone straight to his head. This was made abundantly clear when Tommy had first brought Technoblade to the ravine.

He’d have to blind to have missed the way Wilbur had looked at him. That mixture of fear, anger, worry, wariness… not like Techno wasn’t used to seeing those expressions, but not on Wilbur. His family usually looks at Techno like he’s actually a person. 

Wilbur’s afraid that Techno will try to take over.

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_HE’S WEAK._ **

**_TAKE HIM OUT._ **

**_BLOOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD-_ **

No. Techno doesn’t want to take whatever remains of Wilbur’s power. He’s had his fair share of leadership. Techno’s seen war, seen battle, seen bloodshed. He’s led people through it all. And he doesn’t need to go through that again. Wilbur knows what he’s doing. He certainly does not need Techno to try and force his way into it. Techno’s content to sit back and follow Wilbur’s orders.

**_WEAK._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_TAKE HIM OUT._ **

**_TECHNOWEAK._ **

**_TECHNOWEAK._ **

Techno rubs his temples and sighs. “This is not what I need right now,” he mutters. “What I need is…”

Slowly he looks at the stone hoe in his hand.

“Clout. I need more clout. Infinitely more clout. There can never be too much clout.” Techno twirls the tool around. “Supplies lead to clout.  _ Netherite _ supplies lead to clout. So off to get netherite I go.”

He grabs the torch from where he had stuck it in the ground, and sets off. Techno doesn’t know the land too well-

**_TECHNOLOST._ **

**_TECHNOLOST._ **

**_TECHNOLOST._ **

-but he does know where the main city is. He knows where Manberg is. And he knows that both places are well-stocked. And Techno knows that there’s a Nether portal in the city.

“All of these places can be exploited,” he decides, adjusting his path to go to Manberg. Wilbur had told Tommy explicitly not to go to Manberg alone, but Techno’s fairly certain that doesn’t apply to him. And besides, if Techno comes back with a full set of netherite tools, who’s Wilbur to complain? He knows they need supplies.

In a startlingly short amount of time, the lights of Manberg twinkle ahead of him.  _ Jesus, Wilbur. Could you have possibly settled closer to Manberg? Your mortal enemies? _ Techno pauses at the end of the treeline, scanning the landscape. He doesn’t see anyone. But that doesn’t mean no one’s there.

**_PARANOID._ **

“I am many things,” Techno grumbles. “But  _ paranoid _ is not one of them.”

He stays in his position, still watching the city. Sure, it’s three am. Sure, he doubts anyone besides him is up at this hour. Although he has crossed paths with Sam in the dead of night before. Techno’s not exactly sure what Sam’s alignment is, but they have an unspoken understanding. Sam doesn’t bother Techno. Techno doesn’t bother Sam. They’ll exchange a quick nod, then be on their way. Neither of them speak about it.

There’s a glint of netherite in the underbrush next to Manberg. Techno’s eyes narrow, and he sinks into a crouch. Someone’s there. Even from his position Techno can tell it’s not Sam. He stays crouched, watching the bushes intently. Not that Techno’s worried. He doesn’t have a weapon on him, but he doesn’t need one to win a fight. Besides, there’s only one person who has a chance of defeating Techno, and that’s-

A flash of lime green catches his eye, and a masked figure pops out of the bushes. Techno can see the white, smiling mask even from here as the figure gives a jaunty wave and disappears, leaving behind a shower of purple sparks.

_ Dream. _

The voices in his head rise in volume, clamouring for a fight, for battle, for blood. That’s Dream. The biggest challenge to Technoblade’s power. Technoblade’s beaten Dream before, but that doesn’t matter. Dream’s still here. He needs to take Dream out. He needs to take Dream out  _ now. _ And anyways, Dream isn’t on his side, right? Technoblade can take him out. Wilbur won’t be mad. Technoblade can do it now, while no one’s around to see it, he can  _ kill Dream- _

Techno shakes his head violently and sharply mutters, “No!” Killing Dream would not solve anything. Techno doesn’t even have a weapon. Dream’s in full enchanted netherite. Technoblade would die before Dream did. 

_ I’ve already beaten him once. I don’t need to prove anything. _

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_WEAK._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

An explosion of purple sparks catches Techno’s attention. His head jerks up, and he just barely makes out Dream, standing on the edge of a cliff on the other side of Manberg. Dream tilts his head sideways and Techno watches him bounce on the balls of his heels. 

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_VENGEANCE._ **

**_THAT CHEEKY LITTLE-_ **

Techno takes off at a sprint. His calf aches sharply from where Wilbur had stabbed him the other day, but he doesn’t care. Detouring around Manberg would take too much time. So Techno cuts right through it, the houses and buildings passing in a blur. He doesn’t know what Dream wants. But Dream wouldn’t show up like this for no reason. 

He’s just reached the bottom of the cliff when purple sparks float down around his head. Techno growls quietly, but climbs straight up the cliff anyways. As he predicted, Dream isn’t there. Techno whirls in a circle, scanning for any sign of his adversary.

A shower of purple. Techno hones in on the flash of color. Dream’s farther away now. And higher up. He waves again from the tree where he perches.

Again, Techno runs. 

It becomes something similar to a game. Dream waits until Techno’s almost to his position, then pearls away. Techno gives chase, pink braid whipping out behind him. It reminds Techno of the games he used to play with his family. Philza would let the three siblings chase him down, making them learn to work together, making them learn strategy. And over time, they did develop a strategy. Techno’s role was to keep track of Phil, to stay on him, to  _ herd  _ him. Draw his attention away from the other boys. It freed Wilbur and Tommy to flank Phil and launch a surprise attack. Naturally, Philza caught on to their plan (mostly Tommy’s fault), and they had to adjust their strategy again.

The next time Techno nears Dream, he doesn’t wait to see if Dream will pearl.

He’s got Dream’s trajectory down. His next pearl should land right between those two trees on the side of that hill. Techno blows past where Dream had last been, already running for the next spot. To his pleasure, he’s right.

They settle into a new rhythm. Now Techno’s keeping pace with Dream. He reaches the landing zones mere seconds before Dream does. They run side by side for a moment, and then Dream’s gone again. 

_ This is… fun. _

Technoblade’s having fun chasing Dream through the wilderness.

The next pearl should land Dream at the top of that cliff. Techno glances sideways at the other man, wondering if that’s really where he’s going. Dream must have seen it, as he laughs before vanishing. Sure enough, the familiar flash of purple sparks appears at the very top of the cliff.

Techno groans softly to himself, but throws himself into the challenge anyways. The cliff is considerably steep. Steeper than any cliff he’s climbed before, but by now Techno’s fixated on his task. He has to get up there. See what Dream wants.

**_DON’T._ **

**_DREAM ACTING STRANGE._ **

**_TECHNOTIRED._ **

**_DO NOT ENGAGE._ **

**_DANGER._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

He hauls himself over the edge of the cliff. The run and the climb have him breathing heavily, and his calf aches. That’s not important though. Techno looks up and sees booted feet planted directly in front of him. “Hello, Technoblade.”

A slow grin spreads across Technoblade’s face, fully exposing his tusks. “Hello, Dream.” 


	12. Revenge Party

Slowly, Tubbo starts to adjust. He adjusts to Schlatt’s patterns and unpredictbility. Of course there are still incidents where he can’t avoid the president’s wrath- especially with Schlatt’s increased drinking- but for the most part, Tubbo manages to stay on Schlatt’s good side. Tubbo adjusts to his new role as a spy. It’s the same routine, over and over again. Stay in Manberg, stay near Schlatt, get the information, report to Wilbur. On occasion he reports to Technoblade. 

He’s only seen Tommy three times.

It’s been a surprisingly long time since Wilbur and Tommy’s exile. Almost a month and a half. Everyone seems tired. Tubbo’s noticed how there aren’t as many protests against Schlatt’s orders. Even Niki seems somewhat subdued. Everyone seems… almost content.

Everyone except Wilbur.

Tubbo’s been told that he’s intuitive. He’s been told that he’s smart and that he’s good at reading people. Tubbo relies on this ability subconsciously. He trusts himself and his instincts. But he really hopes that he’s wrong about Wilbur.

Every since he agreed to be their spy, Tubbo’s felt something off about Wilbur. It’s gotten worse with every time they meet. Wilbur’s acting strange, bitter, cynical. He’s fixated on L’manberg and getting it back. But he hasn’t made any moves yet.

_What’s his plan?_

Tubbo hurries through the tunnels Tommy had constructed under Manberg. They lead directly to the ravine, and they’re not exactly inconspicious. It’s a wonder that Schlatt hasn’t found out about them.

_I have to be quick. Schlatt can’t know that I’ve left. I have to be back, and soon._

It doesn’t take long for Tubbo to reach the other end of the tunnel. He bursts out into the recently named Pogtopia, nearly tripping in his haste. “Tommy? Wilbur?” he shouts into the emptiness. “I know I’m not supposed to come down here, but this is important, I have to hurry-”

“Tubbo!” Tommy yelps, suddenly popping out from the top entrance to the ravine and bounding down towards Tubbo. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen you in forever-”

“Is Wilbur here?” Tubbo asks urgently. He feels bad for interrupting his friend, but he has to rush. He doesn’t have much time. “There’s something important, I have to tell him-”

“Tubbo? What are you doing down here?”

A small part of Tubbo relaxes at the sound of Wilbur’s voice. “Something’s going on. I don’t know what it is, I just know that Schlatt’s calling everyone to the podium so it’s gotta be important. I thought you should know-”

Wilbur’s eyes harden. He cuts Tubbo off with a brisk nod. “Alright. Let’s go. Tommy and I will watch from a distance. Techno’s with his potatoes; we’ll fill him in later. Come on.”

With barely a moments hesitation, Wilbur starts running down the tunnel. Tommy and Tubbo follow, running side by side. Nerves still flow through Tubbo. _I gotta get back, I gotta get back, I gotta get back-_

“How’d you get away from Schlatt?” Tommy pants as they round the corner.

“Told him I was pregnant,” Tubbo answers without hesitation.

“What?”

“He looked mildly disturbed and told me to ‘do what you gotta do.’”

Tommy blinks, but doesn’t question it. After what feels like an eternity, they reach the end of the tunnel. Tubbo doesn’t wait to see what Wilbur and Tommy do from here and bolts for the podium. _Come on, come on, come on-_

He skids to a halt next to Quackity. “Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, I know I’m late, I just-”

“Tubbo!” Schlatt turns around, grinning widely. “Finally, the help shows up.” He chuckles at his own joke and leans in conspiringly. “I wanted you here because I have an announcement to make, Tubbo. And of course, I can’t make an announcement without my right hand man!”

As Schlatt turns back to the front of the podium, Tubbo catches a strong whiff of alcohol. He winces, and glances at Quackity. Barely noticeable, Quackity inclines his head. Tubbo follows his gaze, and catches sight of the bottle held loosely in Schlatt’s hand. It’s about half full. Tubbo winces again, his nose wrinkling in distaste. _The president. Drunk in front of the entire city. What a look,_ a part of his mind whispers sarcastically.

“CITIZENS OF MANBERG!” bellows Schlatt. Startled by the abrupt noise, Tubbo snaps to attention. “Your president has called you here today…”

Schlatt pauses. Tubbo sees the blank expression flash across his face before Schlatt regains his usual confidence. He leans over the podium, bottle still in hand. “I just wanted an excuse to throw a party. I propose a festival!” 

Immediately Quackity starts clapping loudly. Hesitantly, Tubbo follows his lead, and then applause from the gathered crowd picks up. Fundy lets out a loud whoop, and Jack cheers right next to him. Tubbo catches a glimpse of Niki, arms crossed and silent.

Apparently this is lost on Schlatt. The president’s grin grows even wider as he takes in the cheering people. “I want to drive in the point that this festival is about _Manberg._ ” His eyes flicker up. Tubbo risks a glance sideways, following his gaze, and sees a streak of blonde hair. 

_Tommy._

_He knows they’re here._

Alarms blare in Tubbo’s mind, but he doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it any longer. Schlatt takes a long drink from his bottle and sighs. “A festival to celebrate Manberg. And democracy. The very democracy that brought me into power.” 

The barb is unmistakable this time. Tubbo hides his panic, plastering a happy smile across his face. Tommy and Wilbur have to get out. They don’t have Technoblade with them, they’ll get themselves killed, and it’ll all be Tubbo’s fault because he brought them here.

_Because I went against the president._

“The democracy,” Schlatt continues, “that EVICTED the f- dare I say the DICTATOR that was here before me!” 

Tubbo fails to conceal his flinch. Schlatt shoots him a sideways smirk, and the familiar feelings of guilt, fear, and anxiety set in.

_He knows._

_Knows… something._

_Not everything._

_But something._

_Get out._

“The democracy that let Manberg live up to its fullest potential.”

_Does he even know what he’s saying anymore? Or is Schlatt just rambling?_

“EVERYONE- except for the two who shall remain unnamed- is invited!” Schlatt shouts, throwing his arms open wide. Tubbo recoils as some of the alcohol splashes out of the bottle and on to him. Schlatt doesn’t seem to notice though. “And we enjoy Manberg’s independence. I can get my good friend Technoblade to join!”

Tubbo stiffens. Schlatt’s saying something else, dismissing the crowd, setting a date, giving orders, but Tubbo barely hears it. Schlatt just said Technoblade. There was always the possibility that Technoblade wasn’t on Tommy and Wilbur’s side, but over time Tubbo had dismissed it. The warrior has certainly seemed to be on their side. And there’s always the chance that Schlatt was just trying to scare Tommy and Wilbur. But still.

When Tubbo couldn’t report to Wilbur, he reported to Technoblade. He’d gotten used to being around the older man, becoming more and more relaxed around him. Tubbo had begun to view him as a _friend._ And that meant that he didn’t hold back when talking to Technoblade.

_Technoblade knows that I’m a spy._

Panic thrills through Tubbo. If Technoblade’s told Schlatt that he’s a spy, then Tubbo is absolutely done for. Dead before he can even make a move. _Especially_ if Technoblade is on Schlatt’s side.

“Tubbo!” Schlatt turns to him. Tubbo instinctively takes a step back despite himself. Schlatt takes a swig from his bottle and grins down at Tubbo. “What you say to organizing this whole fling?”

“Organizing- organizing the festival?” The words take Tubbo by surprise.

“Yeah, yeah.” Schlatt’s free hand comes down on Tubbo’s shoulder. It’s not restraining. It’s a friendly touch. But it still makes Tubbo uneasy. “Can’t expect _me_ to organize it, huh? That’s why I have you! You’ll take care of the organizing, won’t you?” He stares at Tubbo expectantly. 

Tubbo feels faint. “I mean- I- sure? Schlatt?”

Schlatt nods approvingly. “I KNEW I could count on my right hand man!” He strides off, not saying a word to Quackity. Nevertheless, Quackity trails after him.

Blinking rapidly, Tubbo stands frozen in place, trying to process what just happened. He’d been so sure that he was about to get caught. That Schlatt would grab him, turn right back to the podium, and announce Tubbo’s death with a smile on his face and a bottle in his hand.

But Schlatt doesn’t seem to suspect much, if anything. 

_How would that even be possible?_

But Schlatt has to know, right? Obviously he had known that Tommy and Wilbur were watching. That’s why his speech contained so many hidden barbs and digs at them. But surely that smirk meant something, right? Nothing Schlatt does is without some sort of ulterior motive. Tubbo’s seen this firsthand. The sideways smirk Schlatt had thrown him has to have meant something. It certainly wasn’t a friendly smile.

_And the whole thing with Technoblade…_

What if Schlatt was just lying about Technoblade?

What if he wasn’t?

Tubbo doesn’t think that he can confide his fears to Tommy. Both Tommy and Wilbur trust Technoblade. Neither would believe Tubbo if he told them that Technoblade might not be on their side. He can’t tell anyone. And now Tubbo’s back at a question he thought he’s answered a month ago.

_Who can I trust?_

Slowly he starts walking to his makeshift home. Eret had offered to let Tubbo stay in his castle, but Tubbo had declined. As much as Eret may seem to be on his side, Tubbo doesn’t trust him fully. Not yet. He still has the scar on his forearm, a permanent reminder of Eret’s betrayal.

It feels like everything is about betrayal now. No matter what Tubbo does, no matter who he allies himself with, he’s betraying someone. If he sides with Schlatt, he’s betraying Tommy. His best friend. They’re practically brothers. But if he sides with Tommy, then he’s betraying his _country._ It may have a different name and a different president, but it is still his country. The land he had fought for. 

Part of Tubbo wishes he could stay neutral. Get away from the mess that’s become his life. But that would only serve to double the guilt.

_Who do I side with?_

_Who do I trust?_

_And who do I betray?_

“Focus on the festival,” Tubbo whispers to himself. He needs a distraction. Something to keep his hands- and preferably his mind- busy.

Schlatt wants him to organize the festival. Okay. Tubbo can do that. He can decorate it. He can make it look nice. He can make sure that everyone arrives. He can take care of it. 

_Keep busy._

_Keep your mind off of betrayals and alliances. This is your job._

He’ll organize it. If Wilbur asks about the festival, Tubbo will tell him what he knows. Tubbo will do his job, both as Schlatt’s secretary of state and as a spy.


	13. Meant To Be Yours

“Why’d you stop me?” Tommy asks, disbelief written clearly on his face. “I could’ve taken him out, this would be over- I have Dream’s crossbow! Techno gave me Dream’s crossbow, Schlatt would’ve been dead before anyone could react! Why didn’t you let me take him out?”

Wilbur continues moving at a steady pace through the trees. His thoughts race.  _ Killing Schlatt. Tommy could have killed Schlatt. And I stopped him. Killing Schlatt. _

“Why wouldn’t you let me take out our biggest enemy?” Tommy demands again, and Wilbur whirls to face him.

“Tommy… killing Schlatt wouldn’t do anything.”

Tommy stops walking. “What?”

“Getting rid of Schlatt would not solve a single issue,” Wilbur repeats slowly. “He would just be replaced. Quackity would become president, and if we killed Quackity it would just pass to-” He cuts himself off with a deep sigh, pushing his hands through his hair. “Tommy, I’ve- I’ve got a question for you. Because this festival, it doesn’t like a bad idea, right?”

“I mean…”

“It doesn’t seem evil,” Wilbur continues. “It seems like a nice thing, like a genuinely nice thing Schlatt’s doing.”

“Yeah, but- I mean, it’s  _ Schlatt _ , Wilbur. The tyrant who took over and kicked us out.” 

Wilbur looks down at his hands. “I… Tommy, we just sort of made ourselves the leaders. We had a vote. And Schlatt won, fair and square, and… now we’re trying to overthrow him. It… Tommy, are we the bad guys?”

The question evidently takes Tommy aback. Wilbur waits patiently for Tommy’s response. He’s been thinking about this for several days now. It makes sense, in Wilbur’s mind. Schlatt ran against them and won. Nothing he’s done has been harmful to the country.

It’s just been harmful to Wilbur and his goals.

“Tommy, I- it feels like we’re the bad guys.”

“No,” Tommy says flatly. He shakes his head and starts walking. Wilbur moves to block him.

“Why not?” Wilbur asks. He’s genuinely curious. Does Tommy not see what he sees?

“We started L’manberg,” Tommy says. His voice is slow. Hesitant. “And we should have won that vote.”

“They formed a coalition government, something completely legal, something we allowed- Tommy, I think we’re the bad guys.” Wilbur doesn’t try to dress it up in fancy words. It’s just that. Plain and simple.

How does he feel about that?

Tommy starts walking again. He moves quickly, almost running. Wilbur follows him more slowly. Tommy’s mouth is set in a hard line, and his brow is furrowed.

_ He’s thinking about it. Thinking about what I’m saying. He’s trying to find a way around it. _

_ But I’m right. _

_ Do I want to be right? _

“Tommy?” Wilbur calls as the younger boy goes to sweep aside the vines covering the entrance to Pogtopia. Tommy pauses and looks back. “We both agree that we’re in the right.”

“Well- well of course, I’m always in the right,” Tommy says. He looks confused. Wary. 

“Then let’s be the bad guys,” Wilbur says softly. 

Tommy flinches like he’s been struck. And that’s when Wilbur realizes.

_ Tommy still lets me have power over him. _

Wilbur still has power.  _ He still has power. _

And he doesn’t need L’manberg to have that power.

All Wilbur needs to do is push Tommy a little further, and Tommy is his.

“Why not?” Wilbur’s voice remains dangerously soft and silky. “Our nation’s gone. L’manberg is gone. We- we don’t have  _ anything _ left to fight for. Everything we had? Is gone.” 

_ Everything is gone. _

_ There’s nothing left for me. _

Schlatt had taken it away from him.

There’s a plan, fully formed in his mind. Wilbur doesn’t remember coming up with it. But it’s fully formed. It’s fully functional. And it is a fully viable option.

“Let’s blow that motherfucker to smithereens,” Wilbur whispers. “Let’s blow the whole. Thing. Up.”

Tommy stares at him. The only discernable expression on his face is unease. “Will-”

Sudden rage flares through Wilbur, and he slams his fist into the side of the wall. “Tommy, I say if we can’t have Manberg, NO ONE!” His voice rises in volume. He’s shouting at Tommy now. “NO ONE CAN HAVE MANBERG!”

“Wilbur, I think-” Tommy shakes his head, then shakes it again. “No, Wilbur, I think we can do this, we can get L’manberg back-”

“L’MANBERG IS GONE!” Wilbur roars. Tommy takes a step back, and in return, Wilbur steps forward. “I want to burn it all to the  _ fucking ground _ , I want no crops to grow, I want it ALL. GONE.” He continues walking forward, forcing Tommy farther in the ravine. “Tommy,  _ let’s be villains.” _

Tommy’s eyes are wide, a deep frown set on his face. “Wilbur, I… I don’t… I need time. I need some time to think.”

“Think about what?” Wilbur snaps. “You’ve had time to think. You’ve had all the time in the world to think. It has been a whole fucking month since Schlatt was elected.”

“I need to think,” Tommy says loudly, talking right over Wilbur. He sits down cross-legged on the floor, closes his eyes, and places his hands firmly over his ears.

Wilbur glares down at him and continues to talk anyways. “We go to Dream. We talk to him, and we ask him for  _ all _ of the TNT he has. We blow the  _ entire fucking place  _ to kingdom come. I want no survivors!” He slices his hand through the air in a cutting motion.

_ No survivors. _

_ No exceptions. _

_ Not Tubbo. _

_ Not Niki. _

_ Not Fundy. _

“You think that people are on our side, but they’re  _ not.  _ No one’s against Schlatt. They all think he’s a good leader.” Wilbur clutches his trench coat, pulling it so tight around himself that it barely leaves room for his chest to expand. “Everyone is pulling the  _ biggest  _ ruse on us. They’ve got us by the  _ fucking scruffs of our necks- _ ” He spits out the bitter words like they’re poison. “No one is on our side, Tommy. Not Eret. Not Fundy. Not Niki. Not Tubbo.”

Tommy flinches and opens his eyes, standing up. “Wilbur- no.  _ No. _ We can still save L’manberg. Look, there’s- there’s a reason why I gave up my discs. It’s not too far gone, we can get it back without-” His voice hitches. “Wilbur, you’re being reckless.”

“Bloodshed is inevitable, Tommy.” The words are harsh. Wilbur doesn’t care.

“But- no it’s- Wilbur, think about why we started L’manberg in the first place! We needed to get away. We needed it. We needed L’manberg.” Tommy’s voice is small. Vulnerable. “And if there isn’t L’manberg- if you destroy it- then what’s the point in anything?”

Laughter bubbles up from Wilbur’s chest. Wilbur looks down, a smile curling across his face. “I know why you’re doing this, Tommy. I know, I can see it in your eyes, I can  _ hear _ it in your voice, Tommyinnit- you’re scared.”

Tommy goes stock-still. Wilbur advances on him. “Tommyinnit, you’re scared that people are going to think differently of you, Tommy, when I said you’re never going to be president, that wasn’t a challenge.” Wilbur leans in close, staring directly into Tommy’s eyes.  _ “That’s truth.  _ You are  _ never _ going to be president, Tommy. You try to sound like you know what you’re doing so you can prove me wrong, but that’s the thing. I’m right. Even if we beat Schlatt, we’ve  _ lost.  _ But do you know what we can do, when everything’s lost?”

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s answer. “We can do  _ whatever we want. _ Dream’s rigged L’manberg with TNT before.  _ We can do the same. _ We can rig this festival with TNT, we can kill them  _ all _ -”

Again, Tommy clamps his hands over his ears. “No, no, NO-”

“EVERYONE WHO CLAIMS TO BE ON OUR SIDE IS LYING!” Wilbur yells. “Tubbo? He’s LYING to you! He would drop us the SECOND he realizes we’re not in the lead anymore-”

“NO!” Tommy’s fist swings up, catching Wilbur in the face. “STOP IT!”

Slowly Wilbur brings his hand up to his face, touching the stinging welt on his jaw. The anger melts out of Tommy’s eyes, and he backs up. “Wilbur, you’re being reckless. You’re not being the man who came in as president. This is not the right thing to do, not the  _ moral  _ thing to do. You’ve gotta stay with it, man. You’ve gotta- you’ve got to pull yourself together.”

A crazy, strangled laugh escapes Wilbur’s throat. Tommy doesn’t think he’ll do it. He thinks that this is something Wilbur will just get over.

He’s sorely mistaken.

Tommy’s eyes widen slightly, and for the first time he takes a step forward. “Listen! If you think that rigging it with TNT- NOT lighting it, but just rigging it will give us the upper hand- if you believe this…” He swallows hard. “Then I will follow you.”

“Rigging it won’t do us anything,” Wilbur says softly.

Fear- but also determination- flits across Tommy’s face. “Wilbur, no. I’m not going to stop you, but I am  _ not _ going through with it. ‘Cause I mean- I- Wilbur, you’re being a moron! You’re being  _ insane!” _

Wilbur leans back against the wall. “Alright Tommy. I don’t need your help anyways.”

“What?”

“Where do you think I’m going to get TNT, Tommy? Where do you think?” Wilbur grins at Tommy. “Tommy, do you think that Techno vanishing and coming back with Dream’s crossbow was just a stroke of good luck?”

Tommy’s crystal blue eyes widen. Wilbur pushes aside the curtain of vines to reveal Dream, decked out in full netherite outside of Pogtopia.

“Dream,” Wilbur greets him pleasantly. 

“Wilbur,” Dream returns, nodding in his direction.

Before Tommy has a chance to say anything, Wilbur walks towards Dream. “Dream, I believe our interests align, do they not? You enjoy this conflict between Manberg and Pogtopia. And Dream, I’m here to  _ facilitate _ that.”

Tommy starts to speak, but Wilbur cuts him off. “Dream,  _ let me be your vassal.  _ I understand you have a lot of TNT?” He’s grinning so hard that he feels like his face might split.

“Dream, do  _ not _ give it to him,” Tommy says, shoving past Wilbur. His expression is wild, desperate. “If he-”

“Tommy, you just don’t get it, do you?” Another laugh slips out of Wilbur’s mouth. “Dream doesn’t want us to win. He just wants Pogtopia and Manberg to be weak! That’s it! And Dream, I am here to help you, I want us to be weak, I want to blow it all to  _ fucking hell.  _ Dream, let me blow it up, LET ME DESTROY IT ALL!”

“Wilbur, this isn’t right!” Tommy says desperately, and Wilbur cackles.

“Tommy, you were never in charge, you were never in charge of this situation!” He turns his back on Tommy and looks at Dream. Expectant. Waiting.

Dream hesitates for only a moment. Then he reaches into his pocket and holds out a bundle of TNT. “There is more at my base.”

Wilbur accepts the TNT and grins at Dream. “I’ll do you proud.”

“Wilbur!” Tommy calls from behind Wilbur. Wilbur impatiently turns around.

And finds himself staring down the end of the enchanted crossbow in Tommy’s hands.

“Hand me that TNT,” Tommy says firmly.

Wilbur doesn’t have a chance to react before Dream steps in front of him, sweeping his sword out threateningly. “Tommy, I’ll have to step in.”

Malicious glee floods through Wilbur as Tommy and Dream stare each other down. His plan is working. He has the TNT. Tommy might not be on his side, but that’s fine. Wilbur has Dream. And he knows that Technoblade will be on his side too. He’s figured out Techno’s goals. He just wants the chaos. And Wilbur can give him that chaos.

_ I control the chaos. _

He sees Tommy’s hands shaking on the crossbow. Tommy won’t shoot. Not only is Tommy terrified of Dream, but he wouldn’t shoot Wilbur regardless. Because Tommy still cares about Wilbur.

But Wilbur doesn’t. Wilbur doesn’t care.

Finally Tommy lowers the crossbow. He looks down at his feet, shaking his head. “This isn’t right. This just- it isn’t right.” Tommy looks up, staring directly at Wilbur. “I’m not going to betray you, Wilbur. I’m going to stand by your side. But this is not the right way to go about this.” He shifts his gaze to Dream. “You know this as well, Dream. Blowing up Manberg isn’t going to solve anything.” 

Tommy shakes his head again, and slowly retreats into Pogtopia. His feet drag. He looks almost completely defeated.

_ Almost. _

Wilbur nods at Dream. “Thank you.”

Dream nods back and begins walking away. Wilbur leans back against the wall and stares at the TNT in his hands.

_ Tommy will understand. _

_ He’ll understand eventually. _

_ I know my brother. _

_ He’ll come around. _


	14. Calm Before The Storm

_ Something is going to happen. _

Nothing’s happened yet. All that’s going to happen tomorrow is the festival. And it should go smoothly, without any hitches.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Quackity mutters. Something bad’s going to happen. He can feel it in his bones. He doesn’t know what exactly is going to happen, but something is going to happen. 

Next to him, Schlatt lets out a loud snore. Quackity glances over at the president. He’s slumped over the table, passed out. 

_ Probably has the biggest fucking hangover in history. _

Quackity studies Schlatt for another moment. Slowly he eases himself out of his chair and backs towards the door. It’s not like Schlatt will miss him. Even if he wasn’t drunk, he wouldn’t notice Quackity’s abscence. 

Schlatt doesn’t give a fuck about him.

He slips out of the white house and closes the door behind him. He’ll check on the festival preparations. Tubbo should be taking care of it, and if he’s not mistaken, Fundy had offered to help him. Good. Quackity can go and talk to Tubbo and Fundy. 

If he’s being honest, Quackity’s worried about them. After all, they’re the two youngest members of Manberg and both had been founders of L’manberg. They’re prime targets for Schlatt’s manipulation. Schlatt’s already started to mess with Tubbo’s mind, favoring him over everyone else. He hasn’t had a chance to get to Fundy, but even so, Quackity sees the way Fundy acts around Schlatt. The fox craves his attention, his approval.

_ What did Wilbur do that made Fundy act like this? _

Yes. Quackity has to check in on the younger boys. He has to make sure that they’re holding up okay under Schlatt’s rule. And he can talk to Niki as well. Perhaps she’ll have some idea of why Quackity has this foreboding feeling,

What could possibly happen? The only bad thing Quackity can see happening is if Wilbur decides to attack Manberg. But even then, there’s only one true threat in that, and that’s Technoblade. Wilbur and Tommy aren’t fighters, but Technoblade definitely makes up for it. But an attack doesn’t seem… logical. Manberg would outnumber them. Even Technoblade can’t stand up against all of Manberg, and he’s have to focus on protecting Wilbur and Tommy as well. 

_ Unless… _

Quackity’s well aware that not everyone who claims to be on Schlatt’s side is telling the truth. The only thing that could tip the scales in Wilbur’s favor would be if there were traitors.

Murmured voices rise from below the podium. Quackity dismisses his concerns. It sounds like Tubbo, Niki… Sapnap, perhaps? What’s Sapnap doing here? And that’s Skeppy’s distinct voice too. 

_ That’s an odd group. _

He changes direction, walking towards the sound of the voices. Skeppy and Sapnap’s presences might not be ideal, but Quackity can work past it. He might even be able to gauge where their alliances lie. 

“But I’m not sure about Quackity.”

Quackity pauses at the sound of his name. That didn’t sound good. Tubbo’s not sure about him? What does that mean?

Tubbo’s speaking again. “I mean, I have no idea whose side he’s on.”

_ Oh. _

That’s not good. They won’t talk to him if there’s any suspicion in their minds that he’s on Schlatt’s side.

_ I can’t go talk to them. _

Quietly he crouches down, letting the crest of the hill provide cover. He wants to know what they think about him. That could be… beneficial.

“He hasn’t spoken out against Schlatt-”

_ Yes, I have. _

“-but he’s also helped me,” Tubbo continues. “I just don’t know.”

_ Fuck yeah, I’ve helped you. Without me, you’d be exiled or dead. I’ve made sure Schlatt remembers that he likes you. _

Skeppy’s voice rings out. “Well, he’s the vice president, right? Why wouldn’t he be with Schlatt?”

“Schlatt gives him power.” That’s Badboyhalo’s voice. He’s quieter than Skeppy, but still recognizable. “That’s why he’s allying with him. He’ll change if someone offers him more power.”

_ Not entirely wrong. _

There’s a short silence. Then someone new speaks. “Here, Tubbo, let me help you with that.”

_ Is that Karl? What’s Karl doing here? _

Sapnap snorts. “That looks terrible.”

“Oh, hush,” Bad snaps. “Karl, it looks fine.”

“I don’t think Quackity is on Schlatt’s side,” Niki says hesitantly.

Quackity perks up.  _ Thank you, Niki! _

“When Schlatt tried to imprison me-” Niki’s voice wobbles a bit “-Quackity helped free me. Without him, I wouldn’t be here having this discussion.” 

“George wasn’t happy about that,” Sapnap comments offhandedly. “Quackity broke his crossbow. God, you guys are shit at decorating- give me that, I’ll do it myself.”

“Whose side are you on anyways?” asks Skeppy. “I haven’t seen you take a definite stance on everything happening in Manberg. Who are you siding with?”

Sapnap lets out a small, derisive laugh. “It’s not worth picking a side.” 

That takes Quackity aback.  _ Not worth it? _ Of course it’s worth it. Choosing a side- choosing the  _ right _ side- can get you everywhere. 

Tubbo echoes his thoughts. “But… why wouldn’t you pick a side? Then you don’t have any allies.”

“Oh, I have allies.” Sapnap doesn’t concerned. “They just aren’t in Manberg or with Wilbur.”

_ Who- _

“Oh,” Skeppy says. “You mean Dream.”

“Yep.” Sapnap’s tone is confident.

“But Dream hasn’t chosen a side yet.” Karl sounds strained, like he’s stretching to reach something or carrying something heavy. 

There’s another short pause. Then Karl adds, “Right?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sapnap says carefully.

_ That’s… not good. _

His tone makes Quackity anxious. Sapnap’s dodging the question. That can’t mean anything good.

“Dream has chosen a side?” Niki speaks cautiously. She must have figured exactly what Quackity has.

“Dream’s made alliances,” Sapnap corrects. “He bases his decisions on what would be the most beneficial for him. What he gets the most out of. That’s why he accepted Eret’s offer. Even if it made Eret king of the city-”

“Wait, Eret’s the king?” Skeppy asks in surprise, almost in unison with Quackity’s thoughts. 

“Meaningless title if you ask me.” There’s a heavy  _ thunk _ and Sapnap swears before continuing. “Dream’s still the leader. The title of king is just that- a title. Eret doesn’t have any real power.”

_ I wonder if Eret’s aware of that. _

“What about you, Skeppy?” Karl asks. “Are you and Bad on a side?”

Neither answer. Quackity hears rustling, then a yelp. “Why is the flag so damn problematic?” Tubbo wails. 

Niki murmurs condolences, but Quackity can’t make out her exact words. Bad starts speaking slowly. “Skeppy and I aren’t choosing between Schlatt and Wilbur. We have our own goals and interests. Ant and Sam are with us as well.”

“You’re forming your own side?” Sapnap sounds mildly surprised.

“The Badlands,” Skeppy says proudly. “We’re-”

His voice cuts off abruptly, and there’s the brief sounds of a scuffle. Bad hisses something that Quackity can’t hear, but Quackity does hear the dull smack. Skeppy yelps indignantly and snaps a retort. 

Sapnap laughs. “Wow, Bad. Didn’t think you-”

“Just be quiet,” Bad says in a tired voice. “Muffin deserved it, giving away our plans like that.”

Quackity sits back on his heels, mind reeling. This isn’t good. It doesn’t sound like Dream is on Manberg’s side. Schlatt’s interests definitely do not align with Dream’s. And if Bad, Skeppy, Sam, and Ant are forming their own side…

They didn’t say what their motivations are. But they wouldn’t feel the need to form their own side if they were planning to stay neutral.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything  _ important _ ,” Skeppy complains. “Not like it matters anyways. Everyone’s going to find out eventually.”

“We agreed that you wouldn’t go spilling our plans!” Bad sounds exasperated. “Skeppy!”

“I wasn’t spilling any plans-”

“Well, it sure sounded like it!”

“You don’t trust me, is that it? Is that it, Bad?”

“No, Skeppy, of course I trust you-”

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me!”

“Skeppy-”

“Wooooooow. You don’t even trust your BEST FRIEND. I can’t believe you. What the fuck, Bad-”

“LANGUAGE!”

The pair continues to bicker. Tubbo starts speaking, but with the level of noise Skeppy and Bad are making, it’s impossible to hear what Tubbo’s saying. Quackity slowly stands up and begins backing away from the podium. He’s done here. That’s all the information he needs.

_ An alliance between Badboyhalo, Skeppy, Awesamdude, and Antfrost… _

That’s not good.

_ None of the information I’ve gotten is good. _

Another side. Another contester. Another challenge to the scraps of power Quackity’s managed to collect. They’re not going to remain neutral, there’s not doubt in his mind about that. It’s just a question of what they want. What their motivations are. Ideally their goals would somewhat align with Manberg’s. But that doesn’t seem likely. Their goals appear more akin to Dream’s. And based on what Sapnap said, Dream isn’t on Manberg’s side either.

Everyone is against Schlatt. 

_ Did I choose the wrong side? _

Quackity wants power. He’s not going to deny it. He wants to be recongized, not just dismissed and cast aside. He refuses to let his name be left out of history. And he’s gotten far with this goal.

But allying with Schlatt has soured his name. Schlatt has power, power that Quackity  _ wants. _ But slowly, bit by bit, Schlatt’s hold on that power is loosening. Usually that would be good. That would shift the balance of power in Quackity’s favor. But that’s not how the tides are flowing now. As Schlatt loses power, Quackity can feel it slipping away from him too. 

_ I thought an alliance with Schlatt would boost me up. That while he sinks lower, I’ll rise higher. But he’s dragging me down with him. _

Perhaps it’s time Quackity reconsiders his alliance with Schlatt. 


	15. You Burn With Us

_ Today. _

_ Today is the day. _

_ I am going to end it. Once and for all. _

_ Blow it all to fucking hell. _

Wilbur watches Tommy strap on armor with calculating eyes. The armor fits him well, snugly supporting Tommy’s slim frame. Dream’s crossbow leans against the wall, the shimmering purple light throwing dancing shadows into every little crevice and crack. Wilbur pulls his trench coat tighter around him.

_ Tommy doesn’t have the strength to stop me. _

He may be putting on armor. He may have Dream’s crossbow. He may think that he can convince Wilbur not to press the button that’ll blow up Manberg. But Wilbur knows Tommy. Knows him better than Tommy does himself, Wilbur thinks. Tommy cares too much. Cares too much about Wilbur, about Techno, about Tubbo. And the only thing that could stop Wilbur from pressing the damn button is if someone kills him.

And Wilbur knows that Tommy won’t kill him. 

A helmet clatters to the ground at his feet. Wilbur glances at the shimmering helmet, then looks at Tommy. The younger boy inclinces his head at the armor. “Put it on.”

“I don’t need armor.” Wilbur stares at Tommy, challenging him. 

Tommy’s face falls. “You’re not still-”

“Blow it all to kingdom come.” Wilbur’s voice is oddly steady. “That’s what I said. That’s what I  _ promised. _ Do you know how many stacks of TNT lie under Manberg at this moment?”

“I-” Tommy shakes head vigorously and moves closer to Wilbur. “Wilbur, you can’t-”

“Eleven,” Wilbur says quietly. “At the press of a button, eleven stacks of TNT will explode under Manberg and destroy the entire fucking place. And Tommy?”

This time, Wilbur steps forward, millimeters away from Tommy. “I fully intend to press that button. I am going to blow it all up. You wanted to kill Schlatt?” A grin curls across his face. “I assure you, he will not walk away from this explosion.”

Tommy shakes his head again, more slowly this time. His blue eyes are filled with sadness. “This is insane. This is insane, Wilbur. You’re-” His voice cracks and Tommy looks down, blinking rapidly. “Please. Don’t- this isn’t the right thing to do.”

_ I have to. _

_ It’s the only way to regain control. _

_ The only way I can end it. _

Out of nowhere, Techno appears next to them. “Hullo.”

Both Wilbur and Tommy jump back in fright, caught completely off guard. Wilbur hisses, and Tommy lets out a short shriek. Techno doubles over laughing, and Tommy launches into a bout of cursing that only makes Techno laugh harder. The smile on Wilbur’s face is genuine now, no longer the crazy, forced smile it was only moments before.

When was the last time he’d smiled like that?

Techno hefts the trident in his hands. “I guess I forgot to mention that…” He twirls the trident and plants the shaft into the ground. “I can fly now.”

“Good,” Wilbur says. “Keep it on you during the festival. That way you can make an easy, ah… unplanned exit.”

“Oh, I’m going to. I have a reputation to keep up, after all. Dying in an explosion- admittably that would be pretty cool- but that would still be an L for me.”

Tommy makes an odd noise. Wilbur watches him carefully, his smile shifting back to the one it had been minutes before.

_ You see, Tommy?  _

_ No one will side with you. _

Techno grins at Wilbur and lightly thumps him on the back. “I gotta go. Schlatt wants me at the festival. Destroy it all, brother.”

“Blow it to fucking hell,” agrees Wilbur, looking directly into Tommy’s eyes. To his pleasure, Tommy averts his gaze and shifts his weight from foot to foot. 

There’s a slight whirring sound, and Techno shoots off into the sky. Tommy snorts half-heartedly and kicks at the muddy puddle that Techno had carefully kept one foot in. “Stupid fucking op trident.”

“Let’s go.” Wilbur wraps his trench coat tighter around himself, trying to absorb its warmth. “We have a festival to attend.”

They walk in silence, Wilbur taking the lead. He can feel Tommy’s eyes on him. Of course. The poor boy still thinks he has a chance. That he can bring Wilbur back from the brink of madness. And that’s what it is now, isn’t it? Madness. Wilbur is the villain here. 

And he’s  _ fine _ with that. He’s made his peace with it. If he has to be the bad guy to get what he wants, then fine. Wilbur can be the bad guy. He has no qualms about it.

_ No survivors. That’s what I said. And that’s what I’ll do. Manberg  _ will _ be detonated tonight. _

Before long, the lights of Manberg twinkle through the trees. Wilbur rests his hand on the dagger at his hip, but doesn’t make much of an attempt to stay hidden. It doesn’t matter anyways. Let them find him. Let Schlatt try to stop him.

Abruptly he turns to Tommy. “Here’s the plan, Tommy. Tubbo has a speech. He’s going to give a speech on the podium. And when Tubbo says the line, ‘Let the festival begin,’ he  _ runs. _ Runs as fast as he can. And then kaboom.”

Tommy’s silent for a moment. Wilbur prepares for resistance, but Tommy simply mumbles, “I’m… I’m with you, Wilbur. But only if Tubbo’s with us. I don’t want to do anything that Tubbo doesn’t want to.”

“Tubbo knows the plan,” Wilbur says evasively. He doesn’t want to fully answer the question. He had told Tubbo, yes, but Tubbo hadn’t necessarily agreed to the plan either. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Tommy says quietly. “This is our home. We can take it back. We’re not- you don’t have to be a villain.”

“If I can’t have it, no one can!” Wilbur repeats. He knows that his voice is getting loud, and frankly he doesn’t care.

“Fuck, man, this isn’t right!” Tommy throws his hands into the air.

“THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING, TOMMY!” An incredulous grin breaks across Wilbur’s face. “I know,  _ I know _ that blowing up Manberg during a fucking festival isn’t the right thing to do, but you know what, Tommy? I do not give a  _ fuck. _ We are the villains here, there’s nothing we can do about it, so there is NO POINT in telling me that what I’m doing isn’t ‘right!’ Tommyinnit, I am going to blow it up regardless of what you say!” 

“You don’t have to be the villain!” Tommy shoots back. “Just-”

With absolutely terrible timing, Tubbo chooses that moment to push through the trees. He stops in his tracks, eyes wide. “Uh-”

Wilbur rounds on him. “Tubbo, you’re fine with me blowing up Manberg, right? You agree that I should do it? Press the button? You’d like Schlatt to die, you’d like to escape, right?”

Tubbo blinks, looking straight past Wilbur at Tommy. “Well… I mean, I don’t think it’s really… necessary? But-”

“Tubbo’s right,” Tommy interrupts. “You don’t need to blow it up, Wilbur!”

Ignoring him, Wilbur steps forwards and grips Tubbo’s shoulders. “Tubbo, the TNT has been laid underneath Manberg. At the press of a button, the entire fucking thing explodes! And you want me to do that, yes? Do you want me to blow up Manberg?!?”

“Well- I don’t think that’s really my decision, is it?” Tubbo stammers. “Maybe I don’t think that blowing up Manberg is exactly the right thing, but I think- I really think that-”

“Even Tubbo agrees with me!” shouts Tommy. 

Wilbur laughs. “Tubbo’s just a yes man, Tommy! If you say not to blow up Manberg, he’ll agree with you, but if I say to blow up Manberg,  _ he’ll agree with me.” _

Both boys flinch. Wilbur doesn’t stop. “You know what, I want to know what Tubbo wants. I’ve heard a lot from you, Tommy, but I want to know what Tubbo thinks. What do you think, Tubbo? Are you happy in Manberg with Schlatt?”

Tubbo backs up a few steps. “Well- I mean-”

“Were you happier under Schlatt or me.” The question falls flat, hanging dead in the air. His voice is devoid of emotion. 

Tubbo goes silent.

“ANSWER THE QUESTION, TUBBO!”

“LAY OFF HIM!” Tommy yells, pushing Wilbur away from Tubbo. Wilbur backs off as Tommy throws one defensive arm in front of Tubbo. “Don’t drag Tubbo into this, it isn’t on Tubbo to decide whether or not-”

“Tommy.” Tubbo tugs on Tommy’s sleeve and Tommy quiets, looking down at his friend. “I… I can speak for myself.”

Wilbur tilts his head to the side, a smile playing around his mouth. Tubbo takes a deep, shaky breath, and looks straight into Wilbur’s eyes. “I was happier when you were president. I’d rather have you back in power than let Schlatt remain on the podium.” 

Tommy makes a soft noise and moves closer to Tubbo. The smaller boy looks at his feet, leaning into Tommy. A laugh bubbles up from the depths of Wilbur’s chest. “That’s all you had to say. Thank you, Tubbo.”

“I should go back,” Tubbo mumbles, his voice wobbling slightly. “Schlatt will- Schlatt will want me at the podium. For my speech.”

Slowly he pulls away from Tommy and trudges back towards Manberg. But before Tubbo can get far, Tommy grabs his wrist. “Tubbo?”

Tubbo pauses. “Yeah?” 

“Just…” Tommy shifts his weight awkwardly. “Just stay safe, alright?”

A grim smile spreads across Tubbo’s face. “I will.”

The pair breaks apart, and Tubbo disappears through the trees. Wilbur relaxes, a satisfied smile etched on his face. “We got Tubbo’s answer, Tommy.”

Tommy’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks, he speaks deliberately and slowly. “You promise me that Tubbo won’t get hurt in the explosion?”

“No harm will come to Tubbo during the festival,” Wilbur says without hesitation. “He knows what the cue is, he knows where the TNT is going to hit, and he knows when to run. I wouldn’t blow it up when Tubbo’s in the line of fire anyways.”

He leaves out the fact that he isn’t keen on losing the one bit of leverage he still has over Tommy. His brother would do anything for Tubbo. Which means that Tubbo’s death in an explosion of Wilbur’s doing would be the only thing that could truly turn Tommy against Wilbur.

_ No. I can’t let Tubbo die. _

Together Wilbur and Tommy head towards Manberg. For the most part they stay silent; it’s too risky to talk now. When they do have to communicate, it’s through a series of increasingly frustrating gestures. Eventually Wilbur gives up on communicating entirely and resigns himself to leaning on the edge of their chosen building. They’d managed to find a nice structure to camp out on. It’s not too high, it provides a good view on the podium, and the low walls on the top of the building give easy cover. A secure position to wait.

More and more people begin trickling into the festival. Wilbur spots Techno, Quackity, Fundy, Tubbo, Karl, Eret, Bad, Ant, even Niki, looking extraordinarily unenthusiastic. 

_ So many people… _

_ Am I really planning to blow this all up? _

Then he catches sight of Schlatt, grinning faintly as he watches Fundy trap Techno in the dunk tank. 

_ Son of a bitch. _

It’s settled. Wilbur  _ will _ blow up Manberg today.

The festival seems to be running smoothly. Fundy traps multiple people in the dunk tank. They dance at Party Island for a bit. Technoblade dominates the fenced-in fighting pit, barely breaking a sweat. Most of them seem… happy.

And then it’s time.

Schlatt twirls his finger in a ‘wrap it up’ motion. Quackity shouts an order, and slowly, slowly the crowd begins migrating towards the podium. 

“This is it,” Wilbur mutters, ducking lower behind the wall. Tommy glances at him and sinks into a crouch of his own.

Schlatt slinks up to the podium, flanked by Quackity and Tubbo. Wilbur feels Tommy shift next to him, but doesn’t make an attempt to calm him. If Tommy wants to attack, why stop him?

_ We’ll kill Schlatt. _

_ Put an end to his reign.  _

_ I’ll press the button. _

_ For L’manberg. _

_ I… I miss Philza. _

_ Would he be proud of me? _

Schlatt beckons Tubbo forward. Tubbo hesitates, and Schlatt flashes him an approving smile. Tentatively, Tubbo smiles back, and he steps up to the mic. Wilbur tenses, ready to run for the button at a moment’s notice.

Tubbo visibly takes a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice is loud and clear. “A wise man once told me that L’manberg was like a lettuce. There are so many layers of tasty and healthy goodness, and once you wash off all the catepillars and worms on the surface, it’s a pretty goddamn good meal.” He pauses for a moment before carrying on. “Schlatt has successfully washed all of the insects off our great nation. And with that, he’s allowed the goodness and tastiness to shine through.”

Wilbur scoffs quietly. Tubbo continues speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to look around at what we’ve built today. Look at each other. All of this, thanks to democracy and the leadership of Jschlatt. Our people have been beaten down by rules and dictators for so long. Now we are finally free. Free to elect who we want, free to live how we want, and most importantly, free to go wherever we want without the confines of those huge black walls. So with that in mind, I’d like to thank everyone for coming to this wonderful event.” He takes another deep breath, and his eyes travel straight up, staring directly at Wilbur.

“Let the festival begin.”

Wilbur’s off like a shot. He scrambles to his feet and bolts for the edge of the building. Tommy makes a strangled noise and reaches out to stop him, but Wilbur blows right past him. It’s time. This is it. He’ll press the button, and-

At the podium, Schlatt laughs.

The sound chills Wilbur to the very bone. He knows that laugh.

Schlatt’s saying something, something that Wilbur doesn’t hear. But he does hear Tubbo’s voice, loud and confused. “Schlatt? What- what are you doing?”

_ Something is wrong. _

Wilbur whirls around to face the podium, full of apprehension. Tommy’s leaning so far over the edge of the roof that he’s in danger of falling off. And Tubbo…

Tubbo’s still on the podium. Trapped in place with yellow concrete. 

Any thought of pressing the button abandons him. Wilbur lurches towards the edge of the building, right next to Tommy.  _ What is Schlatt… _

“Schlatt?” Tubbo repeats. 

Schlatt steps back, surveying his handiwork. “Tubbo, I’ll cut the the fucking chase, alright?”

“What?” Tubbo still sounds confused. 

“Tubbo, I- and I mean it- it really sucks for me to say this, right here in front of everyone. I mean, it’s kind of awkward.”

_ Does he- _

Tubbo presses his hands against the concrete. “Schlatt, I- I can’t get out-”

“Tubbo.” Schlatt ducks his head, chuckling. “I know what you’ve been up to.”

Wilbur’s heart turns to solid ice in his chest.

“I don’t- I don’t know what you-” Tubbo protests weakly.

Schlatt turns to the crowd. “He CONSPIRED with the TYRANTS that we kicked out of this great country  _ months ago!” _

Tubbo backs up as far as he can go. Schlatt grins at him. “Tubbo, I don’t know if you know this, but  _ treason _ isn’t exactly a respectable thing around here.” Tubbo opens his mouth, and Schlatt talks right over him. “It all adds up, the fucking tunnels, your abscence, so  _ don’t try to tell me _ that you’ve done  _ nothing wrong.” _

Someone’s shaking Wilbur’s arm. Wilbur looks up to see Tommy, eyes wide with panic. He makes to draw his bow, and Wilbur shakes his head vigorously. Not yet.

“Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” Schlatt asks softly.

“N-no?” Tubbo’s voice cracks.

“Nothing good,” Schlatt says, dangerously quiet. He turns back to face the crowd. “Hey, Technoblade, why don’t you come up here for a sec.”

Techno?

But Technoblade won’t hurt Tubbo.

Technoblade is on their side.

Slowly Techno stands up and makes his way to the podium. His eyes travel over Tubbo with no emotion. Blank. Unreadable. “What’s going on here?”

“Tubbo, as the enemy of the state,” Schlatt says, every word dripping with malice, “And as perpetrator of the state…” He looks at Techno. “Technoblade, please. If you would- if you would be so kind as to… take care of him.”

_ Fuck. _

“Schlatt, are you sure?” Quackity asks, voice quavering. “I mean, look at him. He’s jailed, isn’t that enough?”

Schlatt ignores him. Techno slowly looks him up and down. “What are you asking me, Mr President?”

“Techno, I need you to take him out,” Schlatt replies calmly.

_ Techno won’t do it. He’s on our side. _

“Like… to dinner?” Techno asks slowly.

First Schlatt laughs. Then his expression goes hard and he snaps, “You’re gonna  _ kill him! _ I want you to murder him now, ON THIS FUCKING STAGE!”

Techno remains absolutely still. Tubbo’s backed all the way up, flush against the concrete. He’s shaking his head, mouth moving but no words coming out. Schlatt stares at Techno, a wide grin curling across his face. “DO IT! DO IT, TECHNOBLADE!”

There’s an audible click as Techno loads his crossbow. Slowly he raises it, and aims it directly at Tubbo. “Tubbo... I’m sorry. I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

_ Surely... _

Tubbo’s terrified eyes lock on to Wilbur’s. Desperate. Pleading.

But Wilbur can only watch in shock as Technoblade shoots a firework point-blank into Tubbo’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh why did this chapter take such an abnormally long time to write


	16. Feast Or Famine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLOOD WARNING! It’s not terribly descriptive, but there is definitely blood.

Tommy has been through a lot with Tubbo. They’ve been together practically since birth. And they’ve  _ stayed _ together. Through thick and thin, it’s always been Tommy and Tubbo. Tubbo and Tommy. They might as well be brothers. 

Then Schlatt came. And Tubbo and Tommy split apart.

He told Wilbur he was fighting for L’manberg. Not a complete lie. But Tommy would have been satisfied with getting Tubbo out. If they had gotten Tubbo to come with them then Tommy would have happily lived out the rest of his days in Pogtopia with his brothers and his best friend. 

They had lived through so much together, saving and protecting each other time and time again. Tubbo had gone back for Tommy when Tommy wouldn’t leave the supplies. Tommy had held Tubbo while his house burned. Tommy had lead Dream away while Tubbo escaped. Tubbo had gotten help and ensured Tommy’s survival. Tubbo had given Tommy healing potions after the Final Control Room. Tommy had fought a duel for Tubbo. And Tubbo had screamed Tommy’s name as Tommy bled out in the mud.

And now Tommy watches as his best friend disappears in an explosion of white, blue, and red sparks.

_ “TUBBO!” _ Tommy screams. No, no, no, no, no, not Tubbo, not Tubbo, anyone but Tubbo, Tubbo can’t die-

Technoblade whips around. Blood is splattered across his face, and his eyes are a solid red. He raises the crossbow, aiming directly at the crowd.

And all hell breaks loose. 

“TUBBO!” Tommy screams again. His fingers curl around the ender pearl in his pocket, and he hurls it at the podium. Without waiting to see if it lands, Tommy vaults over the edge of the roof.

For a split second he falls. Then in a jarring twist of space, he’s on the podium. Momentum carries him forward, and he lunges at the bloodstained concrete. “TUBBO!”

Tubbo lies motionless, slumped against the back of the concrete trap. Blood spills from his mouth, from his nose, from his chest, pooling around him. 

A choked, ragged sob breaks free from Tommy’s mouth and he collapses to his knees next to Tubbo. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, Tubbo, no-”

_ BANGBANGBANGBANG. _

He flinches at the sound of fireworks, curling over Tubbo in a senseless effort to protect him. The blue and red light from the fireworks throws sharp shadows over the podium, illuminating the scene. 

There’s so much blood…

“T-Tommy…?”

Tubbo’s voice is faint. Tommy sobs again, pulling Tubbo into his lap. “Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo, don’t- please don’t-”

A weak cough escapes Tubbo’s mouth, and blood dribbles down his chin. “He- he said- W-Wilbur said…”

His head lolls back. Tommy lets out a panicked cry, and shakes Tubbo’s shoulders. “NO! Tubbo, no, Tubbo, just stay- stay with me, please, I can- I can figure something out, just hold on-”

Another series of  _ BANG _ s, and another flash of light. Tommy catches a clear glimpse of the burns streaking Tubbo’s upper body. “No, no, no, Tubbo, please, don’t die, don’t die-”

“I- I…” Tubbo’s breathing is shallow. Tommy feels a tugging on his sleeve, and looks down to see Tubbo’s fingers twisted in the fabric. “He- he said he wasn’t gonna h-hurt me…”

The words are beginning to slur together. Tommy’s hands shake uncontrollably. “No,” he whimpers. “No, no, no. There has to- there has to be some way I can- Tubbo, no,  _ please-” _

Tubbo blinks with vacant eyes. “T-Tommy? Tommy, it- it h-hurts…”

Tears cloud Tommy’s vision, and he strokes Tubbo’s hair gently. “It’s- it’s okay, just shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re-” He chokes on the words. “You’re gonna be okay, Tubbo.”

He continues brushing Tubbo’s hair out of his eyes, murmuring meaningless reassurances. He has to be okay. Tubbo can’t die. They’ve been through too much.  _ Tubbo’s _ been through too much. He can’t die, not now, not like this-

Someone’s got a hold of the bandana wrapped around his neck. Tommy chokes, hands flying to his neck, and then someone’s pulling him away, ripping him off of Tubbo. “NO!” Tommy shrieks, flailing wildly. “TUBBO-!” 

He’s spun around, and find himself staring into Technoblade’s blood-red eyes. “We gotta go, Tommy!” Technoblade shouts. 

“NO I CAN’T LEAVE HIM I CAN’T I CAN’T LEAVE HIM TO DIE PLEASE-” Tommy’s bordering on hysteria now, but he doesn’t care. He has to get to Tubbo. Tubbo’s all that matters, he has to save him, he can’t just leave Tubbo-

Technoblade hits him hard across the face. Tommy’s head snaps sideways with the force of the blow. “Snap out of it!” yells Technoblade.

Without thinking Tommy swings back, striking Technoblade square in the jaw. “I’M NOT LEAVING TUBBO!”

The older man staggers, arms windmilling. For a split second, his eyes flash back to their regular brown. Then he tumbles back, over the edge of the podium. Tommy doesn’t wait to see what happens to him, turning right back to Tubbo.

Only to find Quackity standing in between them, sword drawn. Long burns run up the side of his face and one eye is swollen shut, but he stills holds his ground. “Sorry, Tommy,” he murmurs. Before Tommy can react, Quackity shouts, “GO AFTER TOMMY! DON’T LET HIM ESCAPE!”

Tommy lunges at him. “DON’T TOUCH TUBBO!”

_ Wait! You don’t have a weapon!  _ a small voice shouts in the back of his mind, but Tommy’s already in motion. He rams straight into Quackity, slamming him back against the concrete, the concrete that Quackity had  _ helped trap Tubbo in _ . The sword skitters out of Quackity’s hand. Tommy drops under Quackity’s punch, and comes up with the sword. Quackity yelps and dives to the side, the sword sticking in the ground where he had been only moments before. “Wait, wait, wait, Tommy, we can talk about this-”

The blood is pooling out over the podium now. Quackity follows Tommy’s gaze and glances down at the blood. His face pales. “Tommy-”

“GET AWAY FROM TUBBO!” Tommy screams, swinging the sword again. The weight of the weapon overbalances him, and the sword embedds itself in the blackstone of the podium. Tommy tugs at it futily, but it doesn’t budge. He turns back to Quackity, blazing with fury, but the other man is gone. 

_ Tubbo. _

Tommy whirls around, and the butt of Purpled’s axe blade smashes into his head.

Black and white splotches burst in front of Tommy’s eyes and he collapses on the spot. The entire world spins around him, and his vision dims. He just barely catches a flash of netherite, and automatically rolls to the side. Right over the edge of the podium. 

The impact with the ground knocks the breath out of him. Tommy wheezes, making a weak attempt to get up before giving up and collapsing back to the ground.

_ I have to… I have to get Tubbo… he can’t die, I have… have to… _

Someone hauls Tommy to his feet. Tommy sways, nearly falling back over, but whoever pulled him up grabs him by the shoulders. “Don’t pass out on me,” Technoblade hisses in his ear.

Tommy jerks away from him. “Let me go, you fucking bastard-”

“We don’t have time for this, we gotta go!” Technoblade starts off at a run. Tommy yanks his arm out of his grasp.

“NO!” Tommy gasps out. “I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU- I’M NOT LEAVING TUBBO! I’M NOT GOING TO FUCKING LEAVE TUBBO!”

Technoblade snarls. His eyes are still red as blood. “Don’t make me do it, Tommy.”

“NO NO NO I WON’T LEAVE WITHOUT TUBBO-”

Tommy makes a dash for the podium. Technoblade lets out a furious shout. Something slams into the back of Tommy’s head.

And Tommy knows nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... you've caught up to where I've been writing. I'm almost done with the next chapter, but heads up, updates might take a little longer now.


	17. Voices In My Head

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

Technoblade’s reaching down for Tommy when Purpled drops neatly out of the sky to land in between them. “Sorry, Techno,” he pants. “But orders are orders.”

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

Purpled swings his axe. Technoblade’s forearm comes up in a solid block, the axe blade sinking into his gauntlet. He twists his arm sideways, and the axe flies out of Purpled’s hands. Before Purpled can react, Technoblade punches him in the nose. Purpled’s eyes roll back, and he collapses.

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

He slings Tommy over his shoulder. It’s time to go. Time to leave. They can’t stay here. If Wilbur presses the button while they’re down here-

He makes the mistake of looking at his hands.

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

Blood. Blood is everywhere. It’s on his hands, his face, his boots, his hair. Tommy’s coated in it. It’s on the ground. Technoblade can smell it in the air, a familiar metallic scent. Usually it’s a scent that Technoblade only comes across on the battlefield.

But this is a battlefield now, isn’t it? Maybe it wasn’t before. But a single glance at the blood dripping from the podium, the scorch marks on the ground, the bodies, and there’s no doubt that it’s a battlefield. 

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

There may be bodies. But there aren’t enough bodies. He’s exposed.

As if to prove his point, an arrow whistles past his head. Technoblade whirls around and shoots a firework right back. Punz shouts and rolls out of the way, the firework exploding against the base of the podium. Technoblade doesn’t wait for Punz to retaliate. He shoots again, and once again, Punz rolls. A growl of frustration erupts from Technoblade’s throat. This isn’t working.

Punz nocks an arrow into his bow, and Technoblade drops his crossbow. The move takes Punz by surprise, and the arrowhead wavers. Seizing the advantage, Technoblade unsheathes his sword and strikes. The blade cuts straight across Punz’s chest, and Punz falls back. 

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

Where’s Wilbur? Wasn’t he supposed to blow it all up? That would be quite helpful right about now. 

“Technoblade!”

Technoblade spins on his heel, lashing out instinctively. No one’s foolish enough to be within his range though, and he doesn’t hit anyone. But there are enemies, enemies surrounding him. He counts six.

Six more kills to get.

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

He’s not aware of how the fighting starts. Just that people are attacking, attacking  _ him _ , and Technoblade is fighting back. Viciously. 

An all too familiar trance falls over him. Philza calls it his bloodlust. Technoblade barely has to make his mind focus. All he has to do is let his instincts and body take over. 

The fighting stances and patterns come easily to Technoblade. Feint at Quackity and twist to stab at Eret. Duck Eret’s returning blow. Let his sword clang against Eret’s. Push forward, forcing Eret back. Simultaneously kick back with one foot and land a solid kick in Fundy’s chest. Sheathe his sword and switch it out for the trident. Catch Badboyhalo’s sword in the prongs and twist it out of his hands. Drop Tommy- not the kindest thing, but the easiest way to keep him safe. Spin the trident and smack Antfrost across the jaw. Block Bad’s punch. Ram the shaft of the trident into Eret’s gut. 

Quackity manages to land a hard punch to Technoblade’s face. Technoblade lets the punch knock him to the ground, relinquishing his hold on the trident. Bracing his hands against the earth, he kicks straight up, launching himself back to his feet. He comes up mere inches away from Quackity, and doesn’t bother to stop his forward momentum. Quackity staggers back, blood streaming from his nose. 

Eret’s lunging at him again. Technoblade sidesteps the blow easily. As Eret’s momentum carries him past, Technoblade jabs his elbow back, driving it into Eret’s back. Eret falls with a grunt of pain. Without pausing, Technoblade unsheathes his sword again. In the same motion, he throws the sword, sending it spinning through the air towards Bad. Bad deflects it with his forearm, not to Technoblade’s surprise. Bad isn’t one to be underestimated in a fight.

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

Technoblade stoops to retrieve Tommy. Mistake. Agony splits through his side and he snarls in pain. 

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_TECHNOHURT._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

His own trident sticks out of his side. Fundy yanks it out, eyes wild. A deep, guttural growl tears itself from Technoblade’s chest and he rips the trident straight from Fundy’s hands. Fundy’s ears flatten against his skull, and he turns to run. The crossbow is already in Techoblade’s free hand. He aims and fires. The fox is thrown to the ground and goes still. 

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_TECHNOHURT._ **

**_BLEEDING?_ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

He picks up Tommy again and sees Ant and Bad out of the corner of his eye. They’ve clearly coordinated with each other. The pair splits, coming at both of his sides. Flanking him. In that instant, Technoblade’s strategy changes.

It’s time to go. 

Technoblade shoots a firework directly into the ground at his feet. Both Bad and Ant immediately back up, and Technoblade takes a step back as well, firing again into the ground. As the fireworks hiss, about to ignite, Technoblade’s foot splashes into water. Once more, he fires.

He times it perfectly.

The fireworks go off with a chorus of loud  _ BANG _ s. As they do, Technoblade draws his arm back and makes to throw the trident. The combined force of the explosion and the enchantment catapults him high into the air, higher than he’s ever managed to get before. For a brief moment Technoblade’s suspended in the air, his free arm hooked around Tommy. Then he falls, plunging into cold water.

Again and again he does this. All he has to do is follow the river, and it’ll take him right back to Pogtopia. There’s no need to worry about anyone following him. Even with Tommy’s extra weight, Technoblade can outfly anyone in the city. Only Philza would have a chance of keeping up with him.

At some point along the journey, he feels Tommy stir against his shoulder. His movements are sluggish, slow, and Technoblade doesn’t blame him. The kid took a lot of blows- and serious ones, at that. Nevertheless, Technoblade doesn’t slow down. Tommy can sort himself out when they reach Pogtopia.

Finally Technoblade thumps down onto solid land. They’ve made it. The vines covering Pogtopia’s entrance sway gently in the wind. It’s strangely peaceful, at odds with the bloody scene Technoblade’s just left. The voices begin to recede. He’s left the battle.

He ducks into the ravine, still carrying Tommy. Discarding the trident and crossbow, Technoblade shakes his head vigorously. 

_ Get out of my head. The battle’s over. I won. _

Slowly, slowly, the red haze lifts from his vision. He hadn’t even realized it was there. Quieting, the voices turn their attention to Techno’s physical condition.

**_BLOOD?_ **

**_BLEEDING._ **

**_HURT._ **

**_TECHNOHURT._ **

Techno deposits Tommy against the ravine wall. The younger boy groans, reaching up to his head. Techno ignores him, and rumages around in a chest for bandages and a potion. The trident hadn’t pierced any vital organs as far as he can tell, but he’s not keen on bleeding out either. 

“Technoblade?” Tommy rasps. Techno sighs and turns around. He isn’t looking forward to this conversation. Before he can say a word though, Wilbur bursts through the entrance.

Wilbur looks at the two of them with hollow eyes. “I couldn’t find it.”

“Couldn’t find-” Tommy stands up unsteadily, swaying slightly. “Wha… is there-” He blinks, looking around. “Where’s Tubbo?”

Neither Wilbur nor Techno answer. Tommy’s gaze flickers back and forth between them. “Where’s Tubbo?” he repeats.

Wilbur shakes his head mutely. Techno steadies himself and says flatly, “Tubbo’s gone.”

“What?”

Again, Tommy doesn’t get an answer. Techno watches as realization dawns on Tommy’s face. “Wait- you don’t mean- he can’t be-” His eyes fall squarely on Techno, taking in the blood splattering his face and hands. Techno doesn’t break his gaze away. There’s no point in denying it. A long, tense silence stretches out.

Tommy snaps first. “YOU KILLED HIM!”

“I didn’t have a choice.” The excuse sounds weak, even to Techno. 

“YOU KILLED TUBBO! YOU  _ KILLED _ HIM!”

Wilbur steps back silently. The message is clear. Techno has to fight his own battles. “If I hadn’t done it, I would’ve been killed,” he says carefully. “I can’t hold up against the entire city.”

“YOU CAN LITERALLY FLY.”

“Only when it’s raining! Tommy, it wasn’t an  _ option, _ I couldn’t just not-”

Tommy shoves him hard in the chest. “YOU FUCKING KILLED TUBBO!”

“I-”

Another shove. “YOU SON OF A BITCH I HATE YOU I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU KILLED TUBBO-”

Suddenly Wilbur laughs. “Ohhh, this is just what I said would happen, Tommy!”

Tommy falters. “What-”

“No one is on your side, Tommy!” Wilbur cries, sweeping out his arms. “EVERYONE IS AGAINST YOU!”

“I- no, that’s not-” Tommy’s head swivels back and forth between Techno and Wilbur. “He  _ killed  _ Tubbo! You said he wouldn’t-”

“Technoblade isn’t on your side, Tommy,” Wilbur hisses, a wide grin splitting his face. “He doesn’t give a fuck about Manberg, Pogtopia, L’manberg, NONE OF IT! HE JUST WANTS THE CHAOS!”

Techno remains quiet. Tommy’s eyes are wide and confused, and he takes a step backwards. “I-”

The mistake was stepping back. Wilbur advances. “You hate him, don’t you, Tommy.” He grabs Techno’s arm, pulling him forward with him. Techno growls quietly at the forced contact, but doesn’t resist. He’s aware of what Wilbur’s trying to do. 

Tommy locks eyes with Techno. “You killed Tubbo.” His voice is eerily calm. 

“He did, didn’t he,” Wilbur agrees, honeyed voice dripping with false understanding. “He killed Tubbo. Your  _ best friend. _ Your Tubbo. And he did it at Schlatt’s orders, didn’t he?”

Tommy’s entire body is shaking. “He- I don’t- I just wanted Tubbo back.”

“Do you hate him? Do you hate Technoblade, Tommy?”

Silence. Tommy looks down for a long moment. When he looks back at Techno, his eyes are as hard as diamonds. “He killed Tubbo.  _ He killed Tubbo.” _

Techno bites his lip, feeling the sharp sting as his tusks dig into his upper lip. “What else do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?”

“Why not fight?” Wilbur suggests. Techno’s heart sinks as Wilbur continues. “There’s a pit in the back of the ravine. No armor, no weapons.”

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

_ No, no, no, I can’t afford to let the voices take control. That would be… messy. _

“Wilbur,” Techno murmurs, lowering his head closer to Wilbur’s. “The voices-”

“I’ll do it,” Tommy says quietly. 

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

Techno knows he doesn’t have a say in it. Wilbur’s saying something to Tommy, something that Techno doesn’t bother listening to. Wilbur’s manipulation isn’t meant for him. Slowly he begins removing his armor, loosening the leather straps holding the metal plates in place. He’ll fight. But he can’t let the voices take over.

He’ll rip Tommy apart if he does. Literally.

_ No, _ Techno thinks as he lowers himself into the- the pit.  _ I can’t give in to the bloodlust. I won’t let myself give in. Tommy might be annoying, but he’s still family. _

Tommy drops lightly into the pit. Wilbur leans against the wall, a delighted grin curling across his face. The voices rise in volume, and Technoblade feels his eyes flash red before he forces the voices back. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“You killed Tubbo,” Tommy mumbles. His voices rises. “YOU KILLED TUBBO!” He lunges at Techno with a furious cry.

The fight is short lived. Neither of them are in peak condition, but Tommy’s significantly more battered than Techno is. It’s barely a fight at all. Even the voices go quiet. 

Techno sidesteps Tommy’s blow, letting Tommy stumble past him. Tommy plows straight into the side of the pit. He pushes off the side and swings again at Techno. Techno ducks and slips under Tommy’s outstretched arm. Wilbur’s cracked laughter echoes above it all.

There’s a terrible  _ snap _ as Tommy’s fist slams into the wall. He cries out in pain, and guilt pools in Techno’s stomach. This is his fault. 

Then Tommy spins, bringing his leg up in a perfect imitation of a kick Techno’s used on him countless times before. His foot connects with Techno’s injured side, and any feeling of guilt dissolves.

Blinding, white-hot pain explodes through Techno’s body, and a shriek of pain rips free from his mouth. The next thing he remembers, he’s on his knees, hand clutched to his side as the voices erupt in his head.

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_TECHNOHURT._ **

**_KILL THE CHILD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

Technoblade launches himself to his feet and lunges. He catches Tommy by the throat, slamming the younger boy into the wall. Tommy gasps, the wind knocked out of him, and Technoblade pushes forward and up. “Tommy, the thing is, you’re using words.” The voice is his. But the words aren’t. The voices scream encouragment.

Tommy claws at Technoblade’s arm, leaving behind deep, bloody gouges. Technoblade simply pushes harder against Tommy’s throat, and Tommy wheezes. “But the thing about this world, Tommy, is that the only universal language is  _ violence.” _ Technoblade punctuates the word by pushing even harder. Tommy struggles weakly. “And we’ve had that conversation, we’ve spoken that language  _ in the pit.” _

Tommy’s eyelids flutter, and Technoblade drops him. Tommy collapses to the ground, coughing hard. Technoblade crouches to look him in the eye. “It’s over, Tommy.”

He straightens and looks up at where Wilbur stands. Wilbur’s eyes are alight with malicious glee. 

Two brothers. One on the ground, the other staring down at him. Techno loves them both. Of course he does, they’re his brothers. But he has to choose. 

Technoblade pulls himself out of the pit and rests his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “On to a new day. A new plot.”

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

“To  _ destroy _ Manberg.”


	18. Damaged

The moment she hears the knock on the bakery door, Niki knows it’s over for her. It’s the only reasonable thing for Schlatt to do. He has to get rid of her. Without Tubbo, she’s the only threat to his power that remains in Manberg. 

_ Tubbo. _

She closes and locks the door to the back room just before Punz enters the bakery. He looks terrible, blood leaking out of a long gash in his chest. But who is Niki to judge? She’s not in the best shape herself, what with the burns streaking from her wrist to her shoulder. Niki’s brown eyes lock on to Punz’s blue ones. Punz breaks eye contact first. “Schlatt’s orders,” he says quietly.

Niki nods once and lets Punz lead her out of the bakery. There’s no point in resisting. If she puts up a fuss, it’ll only be worse for her.

And besides, she has someone to protect now. If Punz finds him…

The smell of smoke is what reaches Niki first, mixed with the horrible, metallic scent of blood. She balks, testing Punz. “I don’t want to.”

Punz rests his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Niki, neither of us wants a fight,” he says tiredly. “It’s not  _ worth _ putting up a fight. Not with Technoblade on Schlatt’s side.” 

This quiets Niki. Technoblade on Schlatt’s side. She’d held out some hope that it was a ruse, even after Technoblade had shot Tubbo and proceeded to turn his crossbow on the crowd. But Punz has confirmed the worst.

_ Does Will know? _

Punz leads her right to the front row of seats, right where she’d been when Technoblade attacked. Niki’s lip curls at the acrid scent of smoke, but she sits anyways. She doesn’t have a choice.

The crowd is significantly smaller than before. Niki notes Fundy’s abscence, and worry pools in the pit of her stomach. Even if he burned the flag, he’s still practically family. Fundy’s far from stupid; hopefully he isn’t here because he ran. Got to some place safe. Maybe he managed to find Will. Niki also notices the amount of burns, cuts, and bruises. Quackity’s eye is swollen shut. Both Bad and Ant have mild burns across their forearms. Evidently Eret’s changed into cleaner clothes, but Niki can tell by the stiff way he moves that he didn’t escape unscathed. The only one who appears to lack injuries is Schlatt.

And Niki’s pretty sure she remembers watching Schlatt shove Quackity in front of him before fleeing. 

But Schlatt doesn’t look completely unaffected by Technoblade’s rampage either. His eyes flicker nervously from side to side, and he keeps rubbing his horns. Niki can see his hands shaking even from her position. Clearly the attack shook him. Maybe he’d planned Tubbo’s execution, but he certainly hadn’t planned for Technoblade’s bloodlust.

For a long moment, no one speaks. Then Quackity says weakly, “Well that didn’t go as planned.”

Rage flares through Niki. “What do you mean, didn’t go as planned?!?!” she exclaims. At the same time, Eret demands, “And what exactly was that plan?  _ Execute _ Tubbo?”

Schlatt’s eyes flash. “Yeah! Yeah that was the plan!”

“You killed him. YOU KILLED HIM!” Niki shouts. It’s not hard to tap into the fury and sadness. She feels tears building up, and she doesn’t try to blink them back. “ _ YOU KILLED HIM!” _

“THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS!” Schlatt yells back. “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO TRAITORS!”

Niki shoots to her feet. “HE WAS LOYAL! HE WAS LOYAL TO YOU, HE STAYED BY YOUR SIDE, HE HELPED TAKE DOWN THE WALLS, HE DECORATED FOR HIS OWN EXECUTION AND YOU  _ KILLED  _ HIM!”

“YEAH. I DID. I DID FUCKING KILL HIM, NIKI.”

The blunt honesty takes Niki by surprise. The tears are spilling over her cheeks now. Schlatt glares at her. “What the hell do you want?”

“How could you  _ do _ that? And after EVERYTHING HE HAS DONE FOR YOU!” Her voice reaches a crescendo and gives out. 

“You have just been a thorn in my side since I assumed this office,” Schlatt snarls.

“I DON’T EVEN WANT TO BE HERE!” Niki screams up at him.

Quackity’s eyes find her, filled with trepidation. “Niki, sit down, please. This is-”

“You know what? No. Fuck it, fuck her. I’m done with her,” Schlatt snaps. “You can leave if you want. If you want out of this country, you can fucking have it.”

Suddenly the rage is replaced with fear. Schlatt’s telling her to leave. She’s in the audience, trapped, surrounded by those who would turn on her in an instant. If Schlatt means…

“Where am I supposed to go?” she asks, voice wavering.

Schlatt opens his mouth to respond, then freezes. His gaze goes straight past Niki. “Wilbur.”

An all too familiar voice from behind Niki. “Hello, Schlatt.”

_ Will. _

And he’s  _ there. _ Standing behind her. Curly hair flopping over his eyes. Trench coat draped loosely over his frame. Staring steadily up at Schlatt. Relief floods through Niki, only to be immediately replaced with fear. Will’s here. Out in the open, exposed, in front of Schlatt.

Will takes another step forward. “You actually murdered Tubbo.”

“Yeah.” Schlatt’s voice is quiet, calm. “You actually let him do that.”

Niki hears the soft creak of a bow and glances back to see Purpled nocking an arrow into his bow. Next to him, Punz’s sword is drawn. She moves closer to Will, eyeing the drawn weapons around them. They need to get out.

“Wilbur, I- I took you as a- you know, you were a shitty leader, but I didn’t think you’d do Tubbo like that,” Schlatt continues. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty upset. Tubbo was a good friend of mine, or so I thought, I mean he put together this whole thing. And to know what he’s been doing behind my back the whole time…”

For the first time, Will’s gaze flickers to Niki. “If you’re going to kill anyone else, kill me.”

Niki’s gut frosts over.  _ No, not Will, I can’t lose him- _

Schlatt snorts. “Yeah, yeah, lover boy, I’ve had enough out of your mouth. I’m not gonna kill anyone else, I mean, do I look like a bad guy? Holy shit, Wilbur, you really just crawled up here on the day of my festival. And you started  _ crying-” _

Will’s expression twists. “You sounded like you were gonna murder another person, you sounded like you were going to go for Niki.”

“No, I was only going to murder Tubbo,” Schlatt says bluntly. “But you know what, I might murder Niki, actually. I might murder her.”

Adrenaline races through Niki’s body. Will whips around to face her, clear panic written across his face. “Niki, just run. Run. Run now.” He turns again, and clocks Ponk in the face.

Niki runs. 

Shouts erupt from behind her, Schlatt’s voice rising above it all. He’s screaming, screaming encouragement, screaming for Niki’s death. Niki runs faster, flying across the terrain. Everything in her is screaming to run, to get away from the danger, to get as far away as possible. Some deep rooted instinct rears its head up, and she throws herself forward into a roll. The arrow passes mere millimeters over her head. Niki comes up easily and keeps running. 

She only falters when she hears Will cry out in pain. 

Looking back, Niki sees him stumble, blood streaming from a gash above his eye. Sam stands over him, raising his sword to strike again. Without thinking, Niki pulls her dagger from its sheath and throws it. Sam’s head jerks up, and he smacks the dagger aside with his sword. Will scrambles to his feet and runs towards Niki. His eyes are wild with fear. “Go, go, go, go-”

Together, they run. Niki veers to the side, heading towards her bakery. “We don’t have time to stop at the bakery!” Will snaps in between gasping breaths. Niki continues anyways, dragging Will with her.

“I have to,” she pants. “You’ll see when we get there.” She can sense his reluctance, but nevertheless Will lets her pull him towards the bakery. 

_ I just hope I’m not too late. If Schlatt finds- _

Niki bangs through the bakery door. Without hesitating, she goes straight to the back room and unlocks the door, throwing it open. Will follows more slowly, wiping blood out of his eyes. “Niki-”

He stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening. Niki kneels next to the unconscious boy in the bed, carefully avoiding the burns as she checks his pulse. She’s relieved to find that it’s steady and stronger than it was last time- still faint, but stronger. Good. No one’s found him yet.

Will crouches next to her, face slack with shock. “Tubbo?”

“It’s him,” Niki assures him softly. She studies the bandages wrapped around Tubbo’s chest. Blood is already starting to soak through.

“He… he survived? But back at the podium you acted like- how? Techno- Technoblade shot him directly in the chest, he should be dead- how did he survive?” Wilbur’s voice is full of disbelief.

Niki brushes a stray strand of hair out of Tubbo’s face. “There were a few moments when everything… stopped.” She struggles to find the words. “Schlatt had fled. Technoblade had fled. I needed to see it for myself, see if he was really… gone. And he nearly was.”

Will’s eyes rake over the blood and the burns. “You managed to stabilize him?”

She shrugs. “I always keep healing potions on me. And my jacket worked as a temporary bandage.” Niki nods at the pile of stained fabric in the corner. “He lasted long enough for me to get him here. I stitched up his chest. The burns I treated the best I could.” She catches Will’s worried look, and rests her hand on his knee. “Tubbo’s strong. He can make a recovery.”

“Tommy’ll be happy.” Will’s voice is oddly flat.

Now it’s Niki’s turn to give him a worried look. It’s not like Will to react like this. Niki knows Will. She  _ knows _ him. She knows his strengths, his weaknesses, his mindset, his nature. She knows the mental toll his banishment must be taking on him. Even just looking at Will, Niki can tell that something’s off.

“Is everything alright, Will?” she asks quietly.

The question catches him off guard. Will blinks. “Of course, Niki. Tubbo’s alive. Everything’s fine.” He flashes her a smile.

And for the first time, Niki sees the cracks in it.

_ Something’s wrong. This isn’t like Will. _

Will stands up abruptly, avoiding her gaze. “We should go. Schlatt could be here at any minute. We’ll carry Tubbo to Pogtopia, and the two of you can stay with us. It’s well hidden, you’ll be safe there.”

Niki nods, worry still gnawing at her mind. She starts gathering supplies- bandages, potions, a salve for burns. “I- I haven’t had time to tend to my arm. It’s still burned. Could you-”

“I’ve got Tubbo,” Will agrees. He picks up Tubbo, gently hefting the smaller boy in his arms. Tubbo’s head lolls back, body limp and unresponsive. Will makes a barely discernable noise. Niki can’t tell what it means.

_ Something’s wrong with Will. _

_ He’s… breaking. _

_ Wilbur’s breaking. _

_ Because of Schlatt. Because of Manberg. _

Niki can’t shake the feeling of uneasiness that accompanies her as she walks. She’s escaped one trap. But what if she’s walking into another?

What if Wilbur’s unknowingly fallen into that trap?

_ We need L’manberg back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would y'all like me to write about the third arc as well or nah because ngl I'm tempted to


	19. Break Free

Tubbo’s dead. Technoblade’s on the loose. Schlatt had fled at the first sign of danger. He’d shoved Quackity in front of him, putting Quackity’s life on the line instead of his own. Then Schlatt tried to take out Niki. In turn, Wilbur got her out. With Tubbo gone, Fundy was promoted. More and more people start avoiding Manberg. It becomes a rare thing to see Schlatt without a bottle in hand. 

Quackity’s mind decides to deal with the stress by shutting down.

He moves through his rountine in a daze, barely focusing on the tasks. His body moves automatically, going through the familiar motions without enthusiasm. Everything seems surreal, fake. But Quackity has a job. He has people he has to protect. So he does his job, regardless of the haze over his mind.

A wave of pain washes over Quackity as he stretches to reach into the barrel near the ceiling. He hisses, recoiling as his burns flare up again. They weren’t life threatening, but  _ damn, _ they hurt like hell. Quackity sits back with another pained noise, trying to make his muscles relax. If he’s tense, it’ll only hurt more. The burns stretch from his shoulders all the way up to the side of his face, and the worst of them are on his forearms. He groans again, gingerly pulling a healing potion from his pocket. Without waiting, he downs the potion in one go.

Almost immediately he can feel the potion beginning to take effect. Quackity sighs as the pain recedes. The angry red burns fade slightly, and he relaxes, closing his eyes. 

_ Why can’t I just stay like this? No pain. No worries.  _

_ No reason to get up.  _

A harsh  _ clang _ comes from outside. 

_ Fuck. _

Quackity opens one eye just in time to see Schlatt wander past the window. 

_ Fuuuuck. _

He doesn’t want to spend his time cleaning up Schlatt’s messes. It’s never been easy, but today it’ll be exhausting. And right now, all Quackity wants is rest. Nevertheless, he stands up, ignoring the ache from the burns. Schlatt’s caused enough damage already. Quackity has to make sure that he doesn’t do anything serious. He doesn’t want another Tubbo.

It’s not hard to find Schlatt. He stands in front of the white house, staring up at it with a blank expression. Quackity approaches him warily. “So, uh, whatcha doing, Mr President? Got any plans? Or…”

“Oh, I’ve got plans.” Schlatt doesn’t look at him.

The elusiveness is making Quackity nervous. “Yeah? What’re your plans?”

Schlatt picks at his horns. “This thing is an eyesore. Take it down.”

“Take it- what do you mean, take it down? The- the white house?”

“No shit, Sherlock, of course I mean the white house. Get rid of it. I want it gone.”

The words don’t register in Quackity’s head. “But- Schlatt, I built that. I built that drunk with Wilbur and Tommy. Right before the election. It was supposed to be a sign of no ill feelings, no matter who won, it’s supposed to be a symbol of peace- you can’t just  _ tear it down.” _

“I can do whatever the hell I want, Quackity!” Schlatt snaps. “I’m in charge!”

An incredulous laugh builds in Quackity’s chest. “And I’m the vice president, we share these decisions- no. I’m not fucking taking it down.”

“Stop being a little bitch.” Schlatt’s tone is cold and hard. “I’m not having something built by traitors in my country, so take your pickaxe, and  _ start mining.” _

_ He can’t be serious. He’s gotta be drunk as fuck, he can’t actually want to take down the white house, right? _

Quackity grins nervously. “Oookay, Mr President, take down the white house, very funny. What’s the actual plan?”

Schlatt stares at him. “You think this is a fucking joke? When I say tear down the white house, I mean. Tear. Down. The. White. House.”

_ Ohhhhhh fuck. _

“I- no, Schlatt, I’m not taking down the white house!” Quackity shakes his head. “I’m not taking it down!”

“What, you gonna cry about it?” Schlatt rolls his eyes. “Gotta do everything myself around here, don’t I?” 

He pushes past Quackity, smacking shoulders with him. Schlatt makes straight for the stone pickaxe lying against the wall and hefts it in his hands. Quackity’s eyes widen as Schlatt swings the pickaxe straight into the side of the white house.

“Wait, stop! STOP!” Quackity shouts, lunging forward. He catches the shaft of the pickaxe, stopping it before it can slam into the wall again. “No! We’re not taking down the white house!”

“Get out of my way,” hisses Schlatt. “Or better yet, get out your own GODDAMN PICKAXE! I WANT THIS SHIT TAKEN DOWN, SO IT’S GONNA GET TAKEN DOWN!”

Schlatt tries to wrest the pickaxe from Quackity’s hands. Pain spikes up his arms as the wood chafes against his burns, but Quackity keeps a firm grip on the tool. He’s not going to let Schlatt destroy the white house. “Schlatt,  _ no! _ It might look like shit, but I built it!  _ I built it! _ Look, man, you can’t just make a decision like this without  _ talking _ to me. I’m the vice president, we’re supposed to be a team, we’re supposed to make these decisions together, Schlatt!”

They stare at each other for a long moment, neither willing to back down. Then Schlatt laughs. “What do you mean, make these decisions together? I’ve made all the decisions myself, Quackity! And I haven’t seen you raise a DAMN FINGER TO HELP! So don’t try and LECTURE ME ABOUT IT!”

“You think I haven’t been doing anything to help?” Quackity’s voice shakes. “YOU THINK I HAVEN’T BEEN DOING ANYTHING TO HELP? While you’ve been off drinking and throwing festivals, I’ve been trying to keep the fucking country together! I’ve been carrying the country on my fucking back- my back, not yours- and you waste away in the white house, so drunk you can BARELY FUCKING STAND!”

Schlatt raises an eyebrow, still refusing to let go of the pickaxe. “I don’t need you. I don’t even need your fucking help, Manberg doesn’t need you weighing it down-”

“You’re delusional.” Quackity shakes his head. “You’re actually delusional- Schlatt, without me, you wouldn’t be president. We agreed to pool our votes if Wilbur won, you  _ literally _ wouldn’t be president without me! Without me and my votes, you wouldn’t be the fucking president! Face it, Schlatt! Without me, you’d be no better off than Wilbur!” 

A derisive laugh escapes Schlatt mouth. “Fuck off, Quackity.”

The words actually take Quackity aback. Schlatt smirks at him. Quackity’s grip on the pickaxe loosens and Schlatt takes the opportunity to regain control of the pickaxe. He swings it into the white house, and with a horrible  _ crack _ , a chunk of stone falls away.

“SCHLATT, STOP!” Quackity shouts. Schlatt ignores him, swinging the pickaxe again and again. It looks like he fully intends to tear down the white house.

_ He’s not going to stop. _

_ He’s not going to stop unless I  _ make him _ stop. _

The first thing Quackity’s hands find is the longbow hanging against the wall. 

“Schlatt, stop.” 

Quackity makes his voice quiet and deadly. Schlatt turns around, and freezes. 

The bowstring is pulled taut, the arrow stretched back as far as Quackity can make it go. It’s aimed straight at Schlatt’s heart. At this range, it woud be impossible for Quackity to miss. 

Schlatt stares at the bow, expression unreadable. Then he looks at Quackity. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me,” Quackity hisses, letting the fletching slide through his fingers a little bit.

The sting of the burns is getting sharper now, and Quackity can feel his arms shaking with the effort of keeping the bow drawn. Schlatt’s eyes narrow and he takes a step closer to the bow, the tip of the arrow grazing his chest. “Go ahead then. Shoot me.”

_ Trap. _

_ This is a trap. _

Slowly Quackity lowers the bow. Schlatt’s expression twists and he lurches forward. “Weak! You’re WEAK! You could’ve killed me, you could’ve taken me out in one shot and you’re TOO MUCH OF A PUSSY TO DO IT! YOU’RE WEAK!”

Shaking his head, Quackity backs away. “No. This isn’t worth it. I-”

Schlatt cackles. “I DON’T WANT A FUCKING PUSSY AS MY VICE PRESIDENT ANYWAYS!”

Quackity whips around and shoots an arrow directy into Schlatt’s shoulder. Schlatt stumbles with a grunt of pain, and Quackity tosses the bow at his feet. “Fuck this.” He stomps on the bow, putting as much force as he can muster into his heel. The wood snaps under Quackity’s boot. “ _ Fuck this. _ I’m done. Fuck you.”

He turns on his heel and strides away, leaving Schlatt with the arrow lodged in his shoulder. Schlatt’s laughter echoes behind him and Quackity moves faster. He’s done. 

_ I’m not taking this anymore. Schlatt can go fuck himself. _

_ He’s outlived his use. I don’t need him anymore. _

Quackity makes his way into the woods. His mind whirls. What’s his next move? Sure he’s gotten away from Schlatt, but that also takes away the power he had with Schlatt. And his prior support of Schlatt hasn’t exactly made him popular anywhere else. 

_ Who can give me the best deal? Where do I stil have power? _

A twig snaps behind him. Quackity whirls around, and comes face to face with an incredibly guilty-looking Tommyinnit. 

For a moment, all they do is stare at each other. Then Tommy grins nervously. “Big Q!”

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Quackity says flatly. He’s not putting up with Tommy’s bullshit today.

Tommy ignores the question. “So, uh… you’re not with Schlatt?”

Quackity lets out a hollow laugh. “Fuck no. No, fuck no- Tommy, I’m not with Schlatt anymore. I’m not playing his game anymore. I left.”

A look of surprise flits across Tommy’s face. “Really? I didn’t think you’d actually-” Tommy cuts himself off abruptly and Quackity sighs.

_ Of course Tommy was listening. _

“I mean- just based off of- it seems like you’ve been, ah, growing apart for a while now,” Tommy rambles, evidently having caught his mistake. “And I mean, I’m just passing through, I didn’t hear anything-”

“Cut the bullshit, Tommy,” Quackity snaps. “I’m not on Schlatt’s side. He’s a fucking- I’m not on his side. Schlatt shouldn’t be in power. It was mistake on my part to ally with him.”

Tommy goes quiet for a moment. “So… you-”

“Tommy, I want to join Pogtopia,” Quackity says bluntly. “Are you gonna let me, or not?”

Quackity raises his eyebrow expectantly. Tommy hesitates, and Quackity can practically the wheels turning in his head. “I… I’m not- I’m not sure if Wilbur-”

“You need allies if you’re going to take down Schlatt. I have inside information. I can’t imagine that Wilbur would complain.” 

Tommy snorts. “You haven’t seen Wilbur in a while, have you.” Quackity doesn’t answer, letting Tommy think. After a long moment, Tommy shrugs. “‘Suppose there’s no harm in it. You’re not gonna backstab, are you?”

“No- holy fuck, you’re paranoid. There’s nothing in it for me if I betrayed you.” 

Quackity offers his hand to Tommy. The boy hesitates for a split second, then accepts it. Quackity shakes Tommy’s hand firmly, ignoring the flash of pain from his burns. 

_ Back in business, baby. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer lol


	20. Lifeline

_ I didn’t press the button. _

_ I couldn’t even find the button. _

_ I didn’t press it. _

_ I didn’t press it. _

_ I didn’t press it. _

The words pound against Wilbur’s skull, drowning out any other thought. He knows he’s not hiding it well, he knows that they can tell he’s slipping. Niki keeps trying to talk to him, asking what’s wrong, and he keeps ducking the topic. Quackity- an addition to Pogtopia that Wilbur’s still not sure about- keeps his distance from Wilbur, casting him wary looks. Even Tommy’s barely spoken to him, focusing most of his attention on Tubbo. But when he does speak to Wilbur, the conversation is clipped and short. 

Only Techno treats Wilbur like normal. Wilbur suspects that Techno knows exactly what’s going through Wilbur’s head. After all, it’s Technoblade. He’s dealt with similar enough things before. 

On the other side of the ravine, Tubbo yelps. Wilbur looks up and hears Tommy say, “Well hold still then!”

“You touched a burn! That hurt!” Tubbo complains.

“That’s because you moved! I didn’t expect you to move when I was trying to-”

Wilbur tunes out their voices and stands up, heading for the entrance to Pogtopia. The tunnels would be quicker, but upon learning that Schatt knew about the them, Wilbur had collapsed it, blocking off the narrow passageway with a cascade of stone. Quackity watches him warily as he passes, and Wilbur ignores him. 

_ I need to check. I need to make sure it’s still there. _

Without bothering to stay hidden, Wilbur strides through the woods towards Manberg. He’s not concerned about getting caught. With Quackity on Pogtopia’s side, there’s no cause for worry. Schlatt’s certainly not going to find him. 

_ Just… make sure it’s there. I don’t need to stay long. Just long enough to see if the button is still in place. _

As Wilbur approaches the hill the podium stands on, voices reach his ears. Wilbur hesitates, trying to place the voices. That’s Schlatt’s strident tones, and…

Fundy.

Wilbur bristles, anger spiking through him. Of course. His traitorous, backstabbing, shit excuse for a son. Talking animatedly to Schlatt. Sounding happy _. _

Even more determined now to find the button, Wilbur steals towards the back of the podium. If he’s right, the room with the button should be right under the podium. And if he’s wrong…

Then Wilbur would be in trouble.

He presses his hands against the side of the hill, feeling for any hint of leeway. Feeling the dirt start to crumble, Wilbur pushes harder. After a moment, the dirt breaks away, revealing a short, narrow passageway. Momentary relief sweeps over Wilbur, and he ducks into the tunnel. It’s cramped, confining, but Wilbur doesn’t mind. It’s  _ warm. _

The tunnel widens, opening up into a small room. A small sigh escapes Wilbur’s mouth as his eyes go straight to the opposite wall. The button is still here.

It’s still  _ here. _

Wilbur relaxes. He runs his hand over the wall, over the words scratched into the walls. He’d put them there when he set up the TNT. Using his dagger, Wilbur had carved the anthem lyrics into the wall. The words are scattered around the walls, making it a bit of a struggle to find the correct order. 

_ My L’manberg… _

His fingers dance over the button. It would be so easy to press it right now. Press it and let the TNT go off. Let the whole fucking place explode. He wouldn’t kill as many people as he would have during the festival. But he’d certainly kill Schlatt. And he’d certainly kill Fundy too.

_ I’m fine with that. I’m  _ fine  _ with that. Fundy can rot in hell for all I care.  _

_ I could press the button, and no one could stop me. _

“Wilbur?”

Of course. Of course Tommy would show up right as Wilbur’s thinking that he could press the button. Wilbur turns around wearily. He’s sick of Tommy’s inteferance. 

Tommy’s eyes widen as he takes in the room. “Wha- Wilbur, what’s-” His gaze lands on the button and Wilbur watches the look of realization cross his face. Tommy yelps and stumbles back, knocking into Quackity as the other man comes up behind him. “HOLY-”

“What the fuck is this?” Quackity demands, glancing back and forth between Tommy and Wilbur. “Why is there a room under the podium? Is there- why is Wilbur here? Why is the anthem-”

Wilbur shifts his gaze to Quackity. “Hey. Please don’t press that button.”

Quackity still looks confused. “Why-”

“If you press that button, eleven stacks of TNT will explode underneath Manberg,” Wilbur explains calmly. 

Alarm flashes across Quackity’s face. “WHAT? That’s- ohhh fuck, that- oh, fuck no, fuck no, fuck-”

“I’ve been thinking about pressing it right here and now,” Wilbur continues. 

“WHAT?” Tommy and Quackity say almost in unison. Tommy lunges forward, gripping Wilbur’s shoulders. “No, no, no, no, no, Wilbur, no, that isn’t the right thing to do, don’t press it, don’t press it-”

“Why not?” Wilbur wrenches out of Tommy’s grip. “Why shouldn’t I press it? I’d kill Schlatt, and no one would be able to help him. Isn’t that what you want, Tommy? Isn’t that what you want?”

“Not if it means DESTROYING L’MANBERG! Wilbur, please-”

“L’MANBERG IS GONE!” Wilbur shouts. “How many times do I have to tell you this? It’s even in the song, Tommy!” He gestures at the wall. “‘I heard there was a special place-’ WAS, Tommy! There  _ was _ a special place but it’s  _ gone _ now, it’s gone and you’re NOT GETTING IT BACK!”

“Destroying Manberg isn’t going to do anything!” Quackity inches closer to Wilbur.

Wilbur rounds on him. “Oh, you sound just like Tommy! Look, I’m going to do it today. I’m going to press the button-”

Quackity shoves him, sending Wilbur stumbling back into the wall. “Move away from the fucking button, Wilbur,” he warns. 

Wilbur obliges, staying in the corner that Quackity had shoved him into. It doesn’t matter; he’s still close enough to press it if he moves fast. Wilbur smirks at Tommy and Quackity. “Fine. I’ll stand over here. You can’t stop me when I press it, anyways.”

Tommy lets out a loud groan. Quackity throws his hands in the air and shouts, “You can’t just blow up Manberg, Wilbur! That’s not going to accomplish anything! Sure you might kill Schlatt, but you’ll be destroying everything you’ve worked so hard to keep! Wilbur, it’s  _ not worth it. _ We can still take down Schlatt without blowing up Manberg!”

Before Wilbur can shoot back a retort, Tommy steps in front of him, blocking the button. “Wilbur, that’s our  _ home. _ We can get it back. You don’t need to fucking blow it up, man!

“YES I DO, TOMMY! YOU DON’T- ohhh you don’t fucking get it, do you?” Wilbur pushes his hands through his hair, letting his fingers rip through the snarled curls. “You don’t fucking get it! There’s no more ‘L’manberg!’ L’manberg is gone, it’s Manberg now, and Schlatt isn’t going to let go of it until we PRY it from his COLD DEAD FINGERS!” He lurches forward, seizing Tommy. “Or we could blow it up, Tommy. I could press that button and let the ENTIRE FUCKING PLACE EXPLODE. Imagine it, Tommy! No more Schlatt, no more ‘Manberg versus Pogtopia,’ no more anything! Just a glorious fucking crater in the ground!”

Tommy pulls back, blue eyes filled with sadness. “Wilbur, no. It’s not right. Blowing up Manberg isn’t going to solve anything. We’ve fought for L’manberg before, and we  _ won. _ We got L’manberg, and we can do it again! We can get it back! There’s other ways to do it besides blowing it up- it can’t be  _ that _ hard, it’s just Schlatt after all-”

Laughter bubbles up from Wilbur’s chest. “You don’t know Schlatt. There’s a reason why he’s held on to power for this long! MY WAY IS THE ONLY WAY, TOMMY!”

“You’re outmatched,” Quackity says quietly. “Give it up, Wilbur. I’m- we’re not letting you press that button.”

Wilbur laughs again, uneasy. Two against one… neither Quackity nor Tommy are particularly good at combat, but neither is Wilbur. If he moves quickly he could press it, but would that be enough? 

He can’t break his show now though. “Do you think I care? I’ll fight.” Wilbur’s hand goes to the dagger sheathed at his hip, and he falters.

The sheath is empty.

Tommy smiles grimly and holds up Wilbur’s dagger. Wilbur’s eyes widen as he realizes what Tommy did. Quackity raises an eyebrow. “Go ahead then. Fight us.”

“Wilbur, please. It’s not  _ worth _ it.” Tommy drops the dagger at Wilbur’s feet. “Think about L’manberg. Not Manberg,  _ L _ ’manberg. You’d be throwing it all away if you blew it up. L’manberg is your home, Wilbur. I- Wilbur,  _ Fundy’s _ up there!” Tommy shakes his head and moves back, leaving Wilbur a clear path to the button. Quackity makes a small noise, and Tommy pulls him back as well. “I’m not going to stop you. But it’s  _ not right.” _

Wilbur goes still, mind whirling. Tommy’s letting him decide. He’s trusting him to… not press the button? Is Tommy really letting him decide whether or not to press it? Of course Wilbur’s going to press it. That’s what he wants. Destroy Manberg.

_ Is that what you want? _

He remembers building the walls with Eret. Straining to lift the heavy blackstone blocks and laughing/groaning when he realized he and Eret were doing different patterns. Reading the message from Dream, and assuring the boys that they would fight. Going to save Tommy from Dream. Eret’s betrayal and the frantic scramble to keep the Dream Team from killing his boys. Throwing his arms out in a desperate attempt to protect his family from the TNT exploding under their feet. The crippling fear that overtook him as he tried to prevent Tommy’s death. Running for president. Shoving Tommy in front of him and taking an arrow in the back to ensure his brother’s survival. Snickering as he watched Tommy struggle to free himself from between the two pistons. The terrible shock as Technoblade shot Tubbo in the chest.

A shadow of his old protective instinct rears up. If he blows up Manberg, he blows up his home. He kills Fundy, his  _ son. _ He’d most likely kill himself, Quackity, and Tommy too.

He’d kill Tommy. He’d kill Fundy.

“Wilbur?” Tommy asks softly.

“I-” Wilbur rubs his temples and groans loudly. “Ohhh FUCK YOU! FUCK  _ BOTH _ OF YOU!”

Quackity’s hand goes to his sword. “Wilbur?”

“Just… I need a moment. I- I need a moment.” Wilbur waves his hand in a ‘shoo’ motion. “Go. Get out. Just give me a moment.” 

Still looking wary, Quackity glances at Tommy. “Are you gonna-”

Tommy grabs Quackity’s wrist and leads him out of the room. He doesn’t say anything or look at Wilbur. He just leaves, taking Quackity with him.

And now Wilbur’s alone in the room with the button. 

He picks up his dagger and slips it back into its sheath. This is his chance. If he’s ever going to press the button, he’s going to press it now. He  _ should _ press it now. If he doesn’t…

This could be his  _ only _ chance to press it.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t  _ know _ what he wants.

“I heard there was a special place”

The words tumble out Wilbur’s mouth unbidden. His eyes trace over the words etched into the walls.

“Where men could go and emancipate”

“The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers”

_ Dream. Schlatt. _

“Well, this place is real, you needn’t fret”

_ It’ll be gone. _

“With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret”

_ Leader. Soldier. Spy. Traitor. _

“It’s a very big and not blown up L’manberg”

_ Do I blow it up? _

“My L’manberg”

_ I won’t get it back. _

“My L’manberg”

_ I won’t get it back either way. _

“My L’manberg”

_ I’m alone. No one’s here for me. No one to tell me what to do. _

“My L’manberg”

_ It’s now or never. _

Wilbur lifts his hand from where it had rested on the button. He can’t do it. Not today. He still wants to. But not today.

Casting one last glance around the room, Wilbur makes his way down the tunnel to where Tommy and Quackity wait. Manberg will remain unscathed. Wilbur will try to restrict himself, try to see things from Tommy’s perspective. He’ll let Tommy convince him not to press the button.

But if it comes to it…

Chekhov’s gun.

The button will still be here.


	21. It's Going Down

“You good, Tubbo?”

“I’m good!” Tubbo calls back, his voice rasping in his throat. “You don’t need to check on me, I’ll stop if something goes wrong.”

Tommy huffs and digs his shovel into the dirt. “No you won’t, you’ll keep going until you fucking collapse.”

Tubbo huffs right back at him. “That’s what you do, Tommy.”

His friend rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he counters, exaggerating each word. “If I was in pain, I’d tell you-”

“Remember when  _ you _ got shot? And told everyone that you were fine? And then fainted after half an hour of farming due to overexertion? And then-”

“OH HMM WHAT WAS THAT TUBBO I COULDN’T EXACTLY HEAR YOU BECAUSE I’M TALKING AND SHIT-”

Niki studys Tubbo with worried eyes. “Do take it easy, Tubbo. Your burns aren’t fully healed and I don’t want you tearing the stiches.”

Tubbo makes a face at the mention of the stitches. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll be careful.”

He returns to his job, sifting through the loose dirt to pull out the potatoes. It’s not strenuous work, but even so, Tubbo can feel the slight sting as the movement pulls at the burns on his hands. He’d tried to block the firework with his hands, resulting in superficial burns that didn’t do much more than sting and make his hands cramp. The worst of the burns were on his chest and face, although after a couple weeks of Niki’s treatment, the ones on his face have mostly faded into scars. He’d actually been almost completely deaf for a week, consequence of the firework exploding right in his face. But by now, the only injuries that might be bad enough to make Tubbo stop working are the ones where the firework made direct contact with his flesh.

Frowning, Tubbo digs his fingers deeper into the dirt. It feels like there might be a potato there, but he can’t tell. Grumbling his annoyance, Tubbo goes to unwrap the bandages around his left hand, then hesitates. 

_ Niki probably doesn’t want me to take off the bandages.  _

_ But I’m suuuuure there’s a potato, and with six mouths to feed, we need all the food we can get. _

He glances around furtively. Neither Niki or Tommy are looking in his direction, both focused on their tasks. Tubbo quickly unwraps the bandages, and digs his bare hand into the dirt. It’s a strange sensation. He’s gotten used to the feeling of rough bandages and coolness of the burn salve on his hands, and the cool, loose soil is a pleasant change. 

Almost immediately, his fingers find the hard skin of a potato. Tubbo grins and pulls up the potato. It’s big. Tommy’ll be happy. 

The potato gets added to his basket. Tubbo sits back on his heels and examines his hand. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s absolutely coated in dirt. He sighs. If he doesn’t clean it off, the burns could get infected. That… wouldn’t be good. 

Tubbo’s eyes flicker around, looking for something to clean his hand with. Simply wiping it off won’t do- it could make it worse if he smears it into the burns. The potato field isn’t far from the ravine, but he can’t go all the way back and let Niki and Tommy know that he took off the bandages. 

The consistent sound of rushing water catches Tubbo’s attention. He glances at the river that lies between Pogtopia and the potato field. Water is good. It would get the dirt off, effectively clean the burns, and soothe any burns that might have been aggravated by the dirt. And he can do it under the guise of washing off the potatoes he’s collected. 

Yes. The river plan will work. Tubbo stands up and picks up the basket full of potatoes, trying to hide his unbandaged hand. Tommy glances at him and flashes him a grin as Tubbo makes his way to the river. Tubbo grins back anxiously, hiding his hand behind his back. Tommy doesn’t seem to notice, instead shoving his shovel back into the ground. 

Tubbo crouches down next to the river bank, setting down the basket of potatoes. He rolls up his sleeve, and plunges his hand into the water. 

The water feels good. Refreshing. Tubbo lets out a small sigh of relief as the cool water flows over his burns. He hadn’t realized that the burns were hurting, but now that they’re underwater, the hurt is abundantly clear. The water is helping though, pleasant against his skin. For a moment, Tubbo forgets about the task at hand. He forgets about the ache from the wound in his chest. He forgets about the tensions within Pogtopia and the unrelenting fear that spikes through him every time he looks at Technoblade, the fear that persists no matter how many time he tells himself that he forgives Technoblade.

Reluctantly, Tubbo draws his hand from the water. He can’t stay for too long, that would look suspicious to Tommy and Niki. Casting a glance back at his friends, Tubbo starts rewrapping the bandages around his hand. As he ties off the knot, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

_ Oh. _

_ Oh, I don’t like that.  _

_ Is something wrong? _

He glances back at Niki and Tommy again. They’re still focused on the potatoes. Neither of them seem worried.

But Tubbo’s been told he’s more “perceptive” than others, and he’s quite sure that something’s off. 

The feeling of wrongness is too strong to ignore. Tubbo stands up, and finds himself staring directly at Schlatt. 

Tubbo can’t help it. A shriek of alarm escapes his mouth before he can stop it, and he falls back into the grass. No, no, no, no. Schlatt can’t be here. He  _ can’t. _ Schlatt doesn’t know where Pogtopia is-

_ The tunnels. _

_ He said he knew about the tunnels. _

_ He must’ve- _

The color drains from Tubbo’s face. That terrible, familiar smirk curls across Schlatt’s face, and Tubbo scrambles backwards on his elbows.  _ No, no, no, no, no, he can’t be here, this can’t be real, this has to be- _

Tommy’s voice rings out. “Tubbo- OHHH FUCK!”

Tubbo bumps into something and turns around frantically to see Tommy. His friend bounds over him, placing himself between Tubbo and Schlatt. “OH FUCK- NIKI! NIKI WE NEED-”

Schlatt throws back his head and laughs. Tubbo shudders violently. He knows that sound. And he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t want to hear it, that sound means bad things to come, that sound means that Tubbo’s going to get yelled at-

Blonde hair flying out behind her, Niki skids to a halt next to Tommy. She slings the borrowed bow from her shoulder, aiming it at Schlatt. “What are you doing here?” she hisses, taking a protective stance in front of Tommy and Tubbo.

“Oh, Niki, you’re not going to shoot me,” Schlatt says dismissively, waving his hand in a flippant manner. Beside him, Punz emerges from the trees, his bow also drawn. “Besides, Punz’ll kill you before you can even touch me.”

Niki’s aim stays steady. “Get out. I have no problem shooting you if you don’t leave now.”

Next to her, Tommy draws his sword. “Three v two, BITCH!”

“Three? I only see-” Schlatt’s cold gaze lands on Tubbo, and Tubbo flinches back. “Oh. Yeah. Tubbo. HOW THE  _ FUCK  _ ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?”

“ _ Stay away from Tubbo, _ ” snarls Tommy. “If you so much as lay a FUCKING FINGER ON HIM, I’M GOING TO CUT OFF YOUR FUCKING HEAD-”

Punz switches his aim to Tommy. “Stay back, Tommy,” he warns. 

Tubbo shakily pulls himself to his feet. Schlatt’s eyes rake over him, and the older man snorts. “Fucking hell, can’t get anyone reliable these days, can I? I thought I could trust you, Tubbo, but turns out you’re a backstabbing piece of SHIT-”

Tommy lunges forward. “I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A-”

“Tommy, DON’T!” Tubbo shouts, catching Tommy’s wrist and yanking him back. Tommy thrashes in his grip, and Punz releases an arrow into the tree next to Tubbo’s head. Niki shouts and shoots back, her arrow thudding into the wood of Punz’s shield. Schlatt laughs, but Tubbo notices that he stepped back anyways. 

“Tommy, Tommy, please, calm down, I’m not worth it, don’t get shot because of me-” Tubbo frantically pulls on Tommy’s arm, trying to keep his friend from going straight through the river to get at Schlatt.

With horrible timing, Wilbur bursts through the trees, Technoblade hot on his heels. “What the fuck is ha-” Wilbur begins before stopping dead in his tracks, forcing Technoblade to stop as well.

Punz whips around and almost reflexively looses an arrow. Technoblade slips in front of Wilbur, slicing the arrow out of the air before Tubbo fully realizes what’s happening. Wilbur’s face whitens. “Oh fuck-”

“My, my, my, WHAT HAVE WE HERE?” Schlatt yells, throwing open his arms. “Five TRAITORS-”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Schlatt?” Wilbur demands. “What the  _ fuck _ are you  _ doing? _ Manberg not enough for you?”

“All my problems, gathered in one spot,” continues Schlatt, ignoring Wilbur. “I even heard through the grapevine that Quackity’s here! Where is he, anyways? Where is that traitorous flatty patty- then all my problems really would be here!”

Tubbo’s heart pounds in his chest. This is bad. This is very,  _ very _ bad. Schlatt’s here. At Pogtopia. It’s a standoff by now- Niki and Punz with their bows, Tommy and Technoblade with their swords. Punz’s aim is on Technoblade, but he keeps glancing warily at Niki and Tommy. If it comes to trading blows…

_ At least Fundy isn’t here. Wilbur would crack for sure if Fundy was here.  _

Technoblade adjusts his grip on his sword. “Are you looking for a fight, Schlatt?” His tone is unreadable.

Schlatt tilts his head sideways. His gaze flickers over the assorted members of Pogtopia. He looks at Punz for a long moment, then looks at Technoblade. “I don’t know, Technoblade. Maybe I am. Maybe I fucking am.”

_ Oh no. _

_ Ohhh nooo. _

The tension’s about to break when Punz lowers his bow and steps forward. “I think we could come to a better arrangement.”

_ What? _

Tubbo isn’t sure if anyone’s unsurprised by this. Schlatt’s eyes go wide with confusion. Tommy stops struggling. Tubbo lets go of Tommy’s wrist in shock. Even Technoblade raises an eyebrow.

Punz continues. “This doesn’t have to end in a fight. That wouldn’t be beneficial for any of us.”

Technoblade snorts. “It wouldn’t be beneficial for  _ you, _ ” he corrects. “I’m preeetty sure we could take you with little to no casualties on our side.”

“Well, yes,” Punz admits. “But I don’t think you want a fight right over your base. Especially since I’ve come into the possession of this.” Punz slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a single stick of TNT. 

Immediately the mood shifts. Tubbo lets out a strangled gasp, and Tommy yelps in alarm. Wilbur backs up hurriedly, and Technoblade holds out his hands placatingly. “Woah, woah, woah, no need for that, Punz.”

“I have more.” Punz shrugs and puts the TNT away. “If you attack, I’ll light it and let all of Pogtopia explode.”

Wilbur shakes his head dismissively. “That’s not possible. You’d explode the potato field, but it wouldn’t reach Pogtopia.”

Punz grins. “You’re not the only one who’s figured out how to lace TNT.”

Tubbo’s heart drops. Wilbur’s eyes widen. “You-”

Schlatt looks back and forth between Wilbur and Punz. “What?”

Punz ignores him. “And if the threat of TNT isn’t enough-” He lifts his bow and aims. “-I’ll kill Tubbo for good this time.”

Tommy yells wordlessly and throws out his arm, shunting Tubbo back. Niki’s bow is up in an instant, aimed straight at Punz. Tubbo goes still, frozen in fear.

Wilbur’s gaze flickers to Tubbo, then back to Punz. “Fine. What do you propose?”

“Fighting is inevitable.” Punz keeps his bow trained at Tubbo’s head. “I’m not against a fight, but I think we could arrange something more… civilized. We fight in the city. Not Manberg, not Pogtopia, but the city. The Dream SMP. Get as many allies as you want. Get any supplies that you want. Let’s set it for… the sixteenth?”

Varying expressions flash across Wilbur’s face. Tubbo barely dares to breathe, hyperaware of the arrow poised to go through his skull. 

_ What’s Wilbur going to do? _

Finally, Wilbur sighs. “The sixteenth.”

A wide grin slides across Punz’s face. It’s not a warm grin, it’s calculating and cold. Shivers run up Tubbo’s spine as Punz nods. “Alright. It’s set. The deciding fight.” He lowers his bow.

“What?”

Tubbo had almost forgotten Schlatt was there. He flinches at the loudness of Schlatt’s voice as the president demands, “What deciding fight? I don’t-” 

Punz grabs his arm, steering Schlatt away. “Come on, Mr President. You’re done here.” His tone is strangely annoyed.

As Punz leads Schlatt off, Technoblade slowly raises his crossbow, aiming it at Schlatt’s back. “Want me to…?”

Wilbur shakes his head mutely. Tommy turns to Tubbo, and his expression immediately shifts to one of worry. “Tubbo, you’re bleeding.” 

Tubbo knows that Tommy’s right without having to look. He can feel his shirt sticking to his skin and the warm wetness spreading across his chest. Niki sighs. “The stitches ripped.”

“‘M sorry,” Tubbo mumbles, shock still clouding his mind. Niki says something that Tubbo doesn’t catch, and starts leading him back to the ravine. Tubbo follows her obediently, still trying to catch up on what happened. 

_ The sixteenth. _

_ We’re fighting. On the sixteenth. For the last time.  _

A deep sense of foreboding settles over Tubbo. Pogtopia has the advantage. They outnumber Schlatt. They have Technoblade- and Dream, as it would seem- on their side. They’re better supplied. They have more legitimate support. There’s no reason for Punz to want this fight, this fight that he can’t win. Pogtopia has every advantage in this fight.

And that’s what makes Tubbo nervous.


	22. Control

The voices are excited. The war is today, it’s happening today, the final fight is  _ today. _ There’ll be blood. Blood on his sword, blood on his trident, blood on his crossbow, blood on his boots, and blood on his hands. And the voices cannot wait for it. They demand to be fed. They need the blood, they need Technoblade’s bloodlust to keep them satiated. 

And Technoblade is planning to deliver. 

There’s never been a time when he’s not prepared for a fight, but he’s more ready now than he’s ever been. The enchantments on his weapons are all reinforced, as are the enchantments on his armor. The stab wound in his side is nothing more than a scar. Three scars to be exact, he notes with a hint of irritation. Tridents cause a lot of damage, it appears. He has golden apples. He has potions. Potions to enhance his own skill, potions to heal, and potions to harm. And he has countless fireworks. 

Yes. Technoblade is ready for a fight. He’s ready for the war, ready to  _ kill. _ In all likelihood, it won’t be a very… fun fight. There aren’t any powerful people on Schlatt’s side, no one who’ll provide Technoblade with a good challenge. The voices won’t be too happy with that, but it doesn’t matter. They’ll get the blood they want regardless. 

Techno finishes securing potion bottles to his belt and straightens up. That’s speed, healing, harm, and strength. All are splash potions, which means he has to be extra careful with them. The glass bottles are delicate, designed to break at the slightest bit of pressure. If by chance they break on his belt, it shouldn’t be too bad. The only potion that could prove to be problematic is the potion of harming. But hopefully if that breaks, the healing potions will also break and counter the effects. And if it doesn’t…

That could be bad. 

He runs his fingers over the bottles, double checking. Yep. There’s the speed potions, then the potions of harming, the health, and the strength. The strength is right next to where his scabbard hangs, easy to crush within a moment’s notice. And next to the strength-

_ Ah. _

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_WITHERSSS._ **

**_RELEASE THE WITHERS._ **

**_DESTROY IT ALL._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

The pouch with the wither skulls hangs next to the strength potions. It’s hidden under his scabbard. Techno doesn’t want anyone asking about it or its contents. Out of sight, out of mind.

Besides Techno, the only person who knows about the six withers skulls in that pouch is Wilbur.

“Wilbur,” Techno murmurs thoughtfully. He should go check on his brother. Techno’s perfectly aware of Wilbur’s plan. And he’s perfectly aware that no one else in that ravine supports that plan. Wilbur could probably use an ally right now. 

**_BLOW IT UP._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_KILL._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

Techno hoists himself out of his bunker and heads towards Pogtopia. He passes Carl, and pats the horse’s neck affectionately. The horse whickers, nudging Techno’s shoulder with his nose. Techno chuckles and pulls out a golden apple from another pouch. “Better not be wasting gapples on you,” he grumbles as Carl snarfs up the apple. “I spent good money on those.”

He gives the horse one last pat and continues. Techno can hear Wilbur’s voice from here, loud and furious. That’s… worrying. Techno picks up the pace, batting aside the vines that cover the entrance to Pogtopia. If something’s wrong, he’s ready. Technoblade’s ready to fight, to defend Wilbur- 

Wilbur’s voice rings out. “I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!”

Without hesitation, Techno vaults over the edge of the ravine, thudding onto the ground and taking the impact in his knees. Next to him, Tubbo yelps in shock and scrambles back into Tommy. Techno looks around, taking in the situation. Wilbur’s back is turned to him, anger radiating off of him in waves. Quackity stands at his side, tense but nowhere near as mad as Wilbur. At the other side of the ravine stands Fundy, flanked by Eret. The fox’s tail is bushed out, teeth bared, ears pinned flat against his head. Eret’s hand is gravitating towards his weapon. 

_ It’s a standoff. _

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_PROTECTNOBLADE._ **

_ How did they- _

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_PROTECT WILBUR._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

“Wilbur, I’M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU!” Fundy shouts. “If you just  _ listen-” _

“I DON’T NEED TO HEAR IT!” Wilbur shouts right back. “YOU’VE USED UP ALL YOUR EXCUSES, YOU’VE CHOSEN YOUR SIDE, I’VE HEARD EVERYTHING I NEED TO FROM YOU!”

“I’M NOT ON SCHLATT’S SIDE! Please, Wilbur, let me explain-”

“Get out,” hisses Wilbur. “Get out of my ravine, no one wants you here! I DON’T FUCKING WANT YOU HERE! YOU DON’T GET TO CRAWL BACK TO ME, NOT AFTER YOU TURN TRAITOR- WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? I SAID  _ GET OUT!” _

Fundy’s voice quivers. “Dad-”

“YOU ARE NOT MY FUCKING SON!” Wilbur shrieks. 

Immediately Techno can tell that Wilbur crossed a line. Fundy shrinks back, eyes widening in shock. Quackity winces, and Niki steps deliberately in between Wilbur and Fundy, her arms spread out protectively. Protecting Fundy from Wilbur. 

Eret steps forward, laying one hand on Fundy’s shoulder and resting the other on the pommel of his sword. “Wilbur, that’s going too far-”

“It’s fine, Eret,” Fundy says dully. Techno notices that he doesn’t pull away from Eret’s hand. Fundy reaches into his jacket and pulls out a worn book. He tosses the book at Wilbur’s feet. “Here.”

Wilbur scoffs, but picks up the book anyways. He goes quiet, eyes roving over the pages. Techno catches a glimpse of the words scrawled across the cover.

Diary of a Spy.

In all honesty, Techno’s not very surpised. Fundy’s always been quite cunning. He doesn’t know how long Fundy’s been doing this or if he ever planned to be a spy, but Techno trusts him. There’s no reason for Fundy to lie, especially to Wilbur’s face. 

“Schlatt’s weak,” Fundy says. He watches Wilbur carefully. “Now’s the time to strike.”

“You want to join Pogtopia,” Quackity says slowly. “All three of you?”

Eret nods. “All three of us.”

“Oh yeah, sure, Eret, we’re just going to accept you on our side.” Tommy rolls his eyes. “Not like you’re going to fucking turn traitor again or pull some shit like that. Yeah, yeah, we’re stupid enough to trust you.”

“I’ve never been on Schlatt’s side, Tubbo, Quackity, and Niki can tell you that.” Eret sounds slightly affronted. “And I’m not siding with Dream anymore either.”

“Dream’s on my side,” Wilbur says dismissively, not looking up from Fundy’s book.

In that instant, Techno can guess Eret’s next words before they leave his mouth. The other man snorts. “I don’t know what he told you, but Dream is certainly not on your side.”

Wilbur stills. Techno winces as the voices perk up.

**_DREAM?_ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_FIGHT._ **

**_FIGHT DREAM._ **

**_BLOOD-_ **

“I’m willing to offer my assistance,” Eret continues, “because Dream took away my kingship. If fighting Schlatt means fighting Dream, then you have my sword.”

Wilbur snickers. “And my axe,” he says mockingly. Then his tone turns serious. “Your kingship?”

“I am no longer king of the SMP,” Eret confirms. 

That… doesn’t hit right with Techno. Eret’s a valuable ally. And Dream knows how to make and keep good alliances. Dethroning Eret wasn’t a good move. It isn’t the kind of move that Dream would make. It isn’t like Dream to make a move that foolish. 

“Well shit,” Tommy says eventually. “That’s… shit.”

Techno moves closer to Wilbur, provoking an uneasy look from Quackity. “If Dream’s siding with Schlatt, we’ll need the help.” He adopts a joking tone. “I mean, I may be good, but I’m not  _ that _ good, I can’t take on the Dream Team and keep you lot from dying.”

Wilbur doesn’t respond. He looks at the book in his hands, then at Fundy. Still silent, he drops the book and turns away, crossing his arms sullenly. Fundy closes his eyes and lets out a shaky sigh. Techno elbows Wilbur, and Wilbur hisses at him. “Fine,” he snaps.

Tommy grins nervously at Fundy. “Welcome to Pogtopia.”

Fundy stares at Wilbur, eyes wide. For a long moment, no one speaks. Techno shifts his weight from foot to foot, feeling extraordinarily awkward. Families are awkward.  _ His _ family is awkward. 

“So…” Techno says slowly, stretching out the word. “I notice than none of you have decent armor.”

“I have decent armor,” Tommy protests. Techno ignores him.

“So if you would all just follow me, please, I believe I can help.” Techno turns and walk back up the bridges to the top of the ravine. He doesn’t check to see if anyone’s following him. He doesn’t need to. They’ll follow. 

He leads them out of Pogtopia, past Carl, to the lake that sits over his base. The voices murmur excitedly as Techno hesitates over the entrance. He turns back, seeing eveyone following him as expected. “Juuust this way, please.”

With that, he drops into narrow tunnel, splashing into the water at the bottom. Techno steps out of the way just as Wilbur thuds down into the base, Tommy following barely a moment later. As his comrades start pouring into his base, Techno back up into the archway, spreading his arms out. “Welcome to my base!” he shouts. 

Tommy is the first to look past Technoblade. His eyes go round as saucers, and he whoops joyfully. “OHHH MY GOD! THIS IS-”

He rushes past Techno. Others start following him, various noises of excitement filling the long room. Techno laughs gleefully, watching them open the chests lining the room. “Take what you need, boys! Take what you need! I am ready for revolution! I NEED MANBERG TO BE  _ GONE!” _

**_YES._ **

**_BLOOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_DESTROY MANBERG._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT-_ **

“We have the Blade, Tommy!” Wilbur shakes Tommy’s shoulders, grinning widely. “We have the Blade!”

“WE HAVE THE BLADE!” Tommy crows back at him, laughing.

Techno pulls back his hair, twisting the long pink braid into a loose bun as he watches his brothers laugh. People are stocking up, choosing swords, slinging quivers of arrows over their shoulders, strapping on armor. Eret swings a broadsword experimentally, testing its weight. Fundy seems to be brightening up, laughing as he watches Quackity shove gapple after gapple into his mouth. Tubbo had discovered the emeralds and is surreptitiously shoving them into his pockets, apparently under the guise that Techno can’t see him doing it. 

And for a few seconds, Techno lets himself hope. They seem eager to take down Schlatt. They’re preparing themselves for battle, for a battle against the government. Maybe they’re starting to see things his way. 

Wilbur catches his gaze and holds it. He brushes his hand against his hip and looks at Techno expectantly. Techno subconsciously mimics the motion, and realizes what Wilbur wants. Maintaining eye contact, he lifts aside his scabbard, revealing the pouch hanging from his side. Wilbur nods, a look of relief flickering across his face. 

He still wants Technoblade to use the withers. Which means he’s still planning to blow it up. Which means he doesn’t think that the others will turn to Technoblade’s side.

Techno drops his scabbard, letting it fall back over the pouch right as Tommy turns to grin at him. He doesn’t return the smile, thinking. He’d been so sure that they were starting to understand. 

_ But are they? _

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_KILL THEM._ **

**_RELEASE THE WITHERS._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._ **

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD-_ **

The pouch bumps against his hip as Techno moves to slid another strength potion into his arsenal. The withers won’t be a first resort. He’ll give the others a chance. But Technoblade is keeping the wither skulls close.

Just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord of the Rings reference pog?


	23. Once And For All

The borrowed armor fits snugly over his frame, clanking faintly with every step. Tommy practically vibrates with energy as he waits for his friends over Techno’s base. Tubbo is already out with him, and Tommy grins at his friend. “Dunno about you, but I am FUCKING READY! I’m ready to fucking take down Schlatt, I’m ready to fight-”

Tubbo smiles back at him, his excitement a bit more nervous than Tommy’s. “We’re getting L’manberg back, Tommy!”

“WE’RE GETTING L’MANBERG BACK!” Tommy shouts joyfully. “FUCK YEAH!”

He laughs, unsheathing his sword and swinging it with careless abandon. His sword is met by Tubbo’s, the harsh clang of metal on metal ringing out through the air. Tubbo smirks at Tommy. “Is that a challenge I sense?” Tubbo asks grandiosely, flourishing his free hand. 

A wide smile splits Tommy’s face. “Well, if you insist upon getting your ass kicked-”

He lunges. Tubbo dodges, twisting under Tommy’s arm. He strikes at Tommy’s exposed side, stopping the blade just before it hits. “Ha! That’s a kill, I win-”

Tommy bats aside Tubbo’s sword with his hand and drops to the ground. He sweeps out his leg, knocking Tubbo over. Tubbo yelps, and Tommy laughs. “I WIN THIS TIME, BITCH!”

Before Tubbo can retaliate, Techno strides over and snags each boy by the collar, pulling them up. Tubbo sticks his tongue out at Tommy. Tommy kicks at him, and Techno holds them apart at arm’s length. “Save your energy for the real fight,” he rumbles. “You’ll need it.”

“Oh, come on-” Tommy starts to protest. 

“No,” Techno says flatly. “Save it.”

He releases his grip on them. As soon as Techno turns his back, Tommy makes a face at him. Tubbo tries and fails to stifle a laugh. Wilbur shoots a glare at Tommy, and Tommy makes a face at him as well. 

Yes, Tommy knows the somber undertones of the situation. But he  _ cannot  _ shake his mood. He’s going to take back L’manberg. Overthrow Schlatt and get his country back. Tommy’s going to fight, he’s going to fight against Dream, he’s going to do  _ something _ for once.  _ We can win this, _ he thinks happily as he walks with his friends towards Manberg. He has allies. More than just Wilbur. He has Tubbo, Fundy, Niki, Quackity, Eret, and he has the Blade. 

_ Who cares if Dream’s fighting for Schlatt? I HAVE THE BLADE!  _

Wilbur comes up at his side as they near Eret’s tower, eyeing the terrain warily. Suddenly, Tommy realizes that Wilbur isn’t wearing any armor. “Will, you don’t have armor.”

“I know.” Wilbur sounds mildly surprised. “I chose not to.” He hesitates for a moment before saying, “We don’t do armor in L’manberg.”

_ L’manberg. He said L’manberg. _

_ Which means… _

_ He thinks it’s possible. He thinks we can get it back. _

Tommy almost glows with happiness. He’s drawing in a breath to respond when an arrow clatters off of his shoulder plate. 

It doesn’t do any damage, the armor protecting him, but the force of the arrow is enough to knock Tommy back. Tommy yelps and falls into Wilbur. Wilbur props him up, and everyone goes still.

“Are they… here?” Quackity asks, his tone unreadable. 

And then, almost as if to answer Quackity’s question, arrows start raining from the sky. 

Shouts erupt from around Tommy. “GET DOWN!” Techno roars. Wilbur pulls Tommy down, and there’s an audible sound of arrows thudding into the wood of Wilbur’s shield. 

“Where are they coming from?” Tommy glances towards the sound of Eret’s voice. The older man is slicing arrows out of the sky left and right, relying on his sword and shield. “I can’t-”

“Tower!” Quackity shouts. “Eret’s tower, they’re sniping us-”

He cuts off with a yelp. Without thinking, Tommy rolls out from under Wilbur’s shield and leaps to his feet. Immediately an arrow flies at his head. Tommy ducks, and barely blocks another. Tubbo’s right at his side, shield raised protectively over his head. A series of loud  _ BANGS  _ echoes through the air, and fireworks burst against the side of the tower. Techno curses. “They’re out of range, I can’t DO anything!”

“Then get up there!” Wilbur whistles sharply, catching everyone’s attention, and angles his sword at the tower. 

The unspoken order is understood. Niki lowers her bow and runs for the base of the tower, Fundy and Quackity hot on her heels. Eret follows a moment later, and Tubbo takes off after him. “TAKE THE TOWER!” shouts Techno, and he hurls his trident, rocketing into the air. At the peak of his flight, Techno spins midair and fires off a series of fireworks at the tower. Tommy tears his gaze away and follows Wilbur into the tower. 

By the time he’s inside, Niki’s already hoisting up on to the second level of the tower. Sheathing his sword, Tommy begins climbing. More fireworks sound, and someone shouts in alarm. Tommy climbs faster, slips, and catches himself at the last moment. He has to get up there, into the action, he wants to  _ fight- _

Tommy pulls himself up onto the second level of the tower, immediately unsheathing his sword again. And not a moment too soon, as Sapnap’s axe swings at his neck. Tommy yelps and ducks. He lashes out with his sword, but the blow lacks power and clangs harmlessly off of Sapnap’s chestplate. Sapnap laughs. “You think you can take me, Tommy?!?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Quackity scramble to his feet and dash for the ladder, blood dripping down his arm. Sapnap swings again. Tommy twists around the axe, the blade passing close enough to scrape against his chestplate, and finds himself at Sapnap’s back. In a split second of clarity, Tommy drops to floor just as Sapnap whirls around. The axe swings full force into the side of the tower and lodges in the stone. Tommy doesn’t waste the opportunity, running for the next ladder as Sapnap swears. 

No one’s on the third level. Tommy doesn’t pause, climbing to the next level.There’s the sounds of fighting, the harsh sound of metal against metal, fireworks exploding, shouts of exertion. Finally, Tommy reaches the last level and hauls himself up right into the middle of a fight. Dream, Punz, and Karl are clustered at the edge of the tower, a protective circle around Schlatt. Punz fights Fundy and Wilbur, who fight with a odd sort of familiarity and dependence despite Wilbur’s earlier words. Quackity faces off against Karl. Dream holds off Techno, Eret, and Tubbo at once, fluid and powerful. At the side, Niki’s on one knee, bow raised and ready. She fires arrow after arrow, aiming for whatever opening she can find.

Tommy registers all this in about a span of three seconds. He lunges to help Quackity, striking at Karl’s side. Karl yelps and barely blocks the blow, suddenly finding himself against two people. Quackity’s favoring his left side, but even so he manages to block Karl’s sword and push back. Seeing a hole in Karl’s defense, Tommy lunges past him and thrusts his sword at Schlatt’s heart. For a split second, it seems like the sword’s going to connect.

Mere centimeters from blade meeting flesh, something slams into Tommy. Tommy’s spun sideways by the force of the blow, sword flying out of his hand. He nearly pitches straight over the edge of the tower before someone’s got him by the wrist. Techno yanks him back, retaliating with a firework aimed just over Dream’s shoulder. Dream raises his shield, and the fighters disappear in an explosion of white, blue, and red. Tommy cries out, shielding himself from the explosion. When the smoke clears, Dream, Punz, Karl, and more importantly,  _ Schlatt _ are gone.

Wilbur lurches forward, gripping the edge of the railing. Tubbo helps Tommy to his feet, sporting a split lip. “Pearled! They pearled, get down there!” Wilbur bellows before stumbling back with a cry of pain, an arrow sticking out of his arm. 

“YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASILY, DREAM!” Techno shouts, and flings a pearl of his own. A split second later, he vanishes in a shower of purple sparks. 

Niki makes an anxious noise, hands hovering over Wilbur’s injured arm. Wilbur brushes her off with a hiss of pain. “Ignore it, go after Schlatt! We’re not winning until we take out Schlatt!” he snarls, yanking out the arrow and throwing it on the ground. “GO!”

He turns and whips a pearl at the ground. Next to him, Quackity disappears, along with Eret and Fundy. Tubbo presses a pearl into Tommy’s hand and Tommy hurls it at the ground, shooting a quick “Thanks!” at Tubbo. 

A jarring twist of space, and Tommy hits the ground at the base of the tower. Tubbo pops into existence next to him. An arrow flies in their direction and Tommy shouts, shoving Tubbo out of the way. The arrow sticks in Tommy’s shoulder, right in a chink between his chestplate and his shoulder plate. Punz nocks another arrow into his bow. Tommy catches a glimspe of his sword, stuck in the grass a couple meters away, and lunges for it. The  _ twang  _ of a bowstring sounds, and Tommy throws himself into a roll. He throws a frantic look at Punz, who’s already drawing back another arrow. 

_ BANG. _

The firework sends Punz sprawling sideways. Tommy’s head whips around and he sees Techno, already turning back to stab his trident at Karl. Tommy grins despite himself, and grabs his sword. He’s ready to fight. 

A streak of green bolts past Tommy. Tommy whirls, startled. There’s a yell from behind him, and Techno bounds past him, following the green. 

_ That was Dream. _

Tommy sprints after Dream and Techno. They’ve reached the base of the podium, and Dream turns, lashing out at Techno. Techno swings his sword right back at Dream. The fight is intense and furious, their movements practically a blur. Tommy runs faster. He wants to fight with Techno, he wants to go after Dream, he wants a chance to use his sword, he wants- 

Tommy skids to a halt right before he’s about to enter the fight. The sheer intensity of the fight… Dream and Technoblade fight with a speed that Tommy’s only seen once before. He’s fought Dream and Techno seperately, he’s fought with them, he’s seen them fight others, but Tommy’s only seen this level of intensity when they fought each other. But back then, back in that arena, they weren’t trying to kill. Now, neither of them hold back. Both fight to thier fullest capabilites, locked in a deadly dance of blades.

And as much as Tommy likes to credit himself, he can’t fight like that and survive, even with Technoblade’s help. 

He backs up, keeping his distance from the fighting pair. Neither show a sign of slowing, and neither seem to be gaining the upper hand. Tommy backs up another step. He’ll find someone else to fight. Techno… Technoblade can handle Dream.

There’s a sharp yelp of pain, and the fighting stops abruptly. Tommy freezes, raising his sword. Both Dream and Technbladeo stand absolutely still, breathing heavily. The edge of Dream’s sword presses against Technoblade’s throat, drawing blood. Technoblade’s trident is braced just under Dream’s chestplate, the prongs poised to drive up into his ribs. Blood spills from a shallow wound across Dream’s sternum. Neither man moves. Technoblade cocks an eyebrow. “Ready to back down yet?” he growls. 

Dream remains silent. Tommy waits with baited breath. They’ve reached a stalemate. If either of them make a move, the other will strike. Should Tommy help? If he tries to help, tries to attack Dream, will Dream try to kill Technoblade?  _ Can _ Dream kill Techno?

Tommy doesn’t want to find out.

Suddenly Wilbur stumbles up next to him, bloodied and limping. His eyes widen as he takes in Dream and Technoblade. Tommy opens his mouth, and Wilbur holds up his hand in a ‘shush’ motion. “I can’t find Schlatt,” he pants. “If we’re going to win this, we need to make Schlatt surrender, and we can’t do that if we can’t fucking find him, Tommy. Tommy, if we can’t find Schlatt-”

“You won’t find him,” Dream says calmly. Technoblade digs his trident in deeper, causing blood to trickle down the prongs. Instead of retaliating, Dream lifts his sword from Technoblade’s neck. “Not where I’ve hidden him.” 

“You hid him?” Wilbur’s voice is tinged with disbelief. “Wha- where? Where did you hide him?”

Dream laughs. “Wilbur, I think we should talk.” He looks down at Technoblade’s trident, still braced against his ribcage. “Privately.” 

Alarms blare in Tommy’s mind. “Wilbur-”

“Tommy, be quiet.” Wilbur eyes Dream warily. Finally he says quietly, “Where do you want to talk?”

Tommy can practically hear the smile in Dream’s voice as the older man responds, “Not far from here. Come with me and let’s have a talk.”

At Wilbur’s nod, Techno lowers his trident, eyes flickering from red to brown. Wilbur follows Dream, heading away from them. Tommy’s left alone with Technoblade. He registers a pain in his shoulder, and touches it delicately. His arm hangs limp, dull pain spiking through it. Dislocated shoulder. Tommy’s grimace of pain isn’t lost on Technoblade, who wordlessly grips Tommy’s bicep. In a single, swift motion he pops the joint back into place, provoking an agonized yelp from Tommy. Then Techno whirls around and strides off, leaving Tommy with his thoughts.

_ What does Dream want with Wilbur? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a love/hate relationship with fight scenes :')


	24. What If Tomorrow Comes

The talk lasts a whole of three minutes. Wilbur knows what Dream wants. Dream knows what Wilbur wants. All there was to discuss was Schlatt’s location. Dream gives it up with surprising ease. When Wilbur requests to know why he’d betray Schlatt, Dream gives a somewhat lame excuse. “Schlatt is an idiot,” he claims. “He’s not fit to be president. You should be back in power.”

A low chuckle escapes Wilbur’s throat. He doubts Dream actually believes a word he just said. Dream has his own motivations, his own plans. He thinks he’s cleverly manipulating Wilbur to get what he wants. Of course, Wilbur knows this. Dream isn’t working his manipulation well, and Wilbur doesn’t need him to push plans along. 

No, Dream certainly knows that Schlatt isn’t an idiot, and he certainly doesn’t want Wilbur in power. He just lied to gain Wilbur’s trust. 

_ Lies, lies, lies, lies. No one is on our side. No one is on my side. _

No matter. Dream isn’t trying to stop him, so Wilbur doesn’t care if he lies. The green bastard can lie, manipulate, and scheme all he wants, just as long as he doesn’t interfere with Wilbur’s plan. 

Dream trails along behind him as Wilbur heads back to the battlefield. No one is fighting anymore. Sapnap, Punz, and Karl stand off the side, all three of them tense and ready to jump back into the fight. Wilbur notes with satisfaction that Punz’s side is a mess of blood, and multiple lacerations on Karl suggest that holding off the attack was not an easy feat. There are injuries on Wilbur’s side too, but none of them look bad. The worst appears to be Tubbo, who favors his left ankle and winces periodically as Niki rebandages his burns. Tommy stiffens at Wilbur and Dream’s approach, hefting his sword warily. Wilbur waves him off. 

“This fight is over.” Wilbur briefly makes eye contact with Niki, then quickly averts his eyes. He knows he can’t lie to her. “We’re going after Schlatt.” 

No one protests. Dream mutters something to his friends, and they noticeably relax. Wilbur watches Tommy fuss over Tubbo, feeling Fundy’s eyes on him and carefully avoiding his gaze. The last thing he needs is the fox hanging on to him, trying to repair their relationship. Techno comes up at his side. He doesn’t speak and simply stands there, a comforting presence next to Wilbur. Wilbur doesn’t let himself relax.

With all major wounds cleaned, dressed, and bandaged, Dream takes the lead. Tommy grumbles something to Tubbo, who nods in agreement, but they follow nonetheless. Even Quackity follows without protest, despite throwing dubious looks at Wilbur. 

Knowing Dream, Wilbur expected to be walking for a while. He didn’t expect Dream to stop in front of-

_ The camarvan? _

Tubbo had said it was torn down. But here it is. It’s almost certainly not the original- Wilbur would remember building something that shoddy- but it’s here. His drug van. The start of it all.

There’s a brief flicker of warmth in Wilbur’s chest. A remnant of L’manberg. The old L’manberg, the original L’manberg. His L’manberg.

Dream wordlessly gestures at the door. Wilbur takes the invitation, and walks into the familiar dim light of the camarvan, shaking off the nostalgia. And sure enough, there’s Schlatt. 

“What are you doing?” The words pour out before Wilbur can stop them. “Schlatt, what are you doing?”

As the others start spilling into the van, Schlatt lifts his head to look at Wilbur. His eyes are bloodshot and his face flushed, a half-empty bottle in his hand. “Wilbur?”

“What are you doing?” Wilbur repeats, more insistent this time.

Schlatt’s gaze travels around the camarvan, skimming over each person. “The hell… this a surprise party?” he slurs, a crazy grin sliding on to his face. 

“You’re drinking.” Wilbur watches as Schlatt tips the bottle up to his mouth. “You’re  _ drinking-” _

Hints of his old rage are starting to make themselves known. Wilbur snaps his mouth shut and resigns himself to glaring at Schlatt. “He hasn’t changed,” murmurs Quackity, his tone flat and cold. 

Wilbur looks at Dream. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“This is your leader, Dream?” Tommy asks, a trace of mockery sneaking into his voice.

Dream laughs. “No. This is not my leader.”

Schlatt slams down the bottle, causing some of the brown liquid to slosh out. It doesn’t seem to concern Schlatt. He leans back, giggling, and rage flares through Wilbur again. Schlatt shouldn’t be allowed to laugh, not after everything he’s done-

“Dream, why would you bring us here?” he asks suddenly, whirling to face Dream. “Why- do you want me to end it?” Wilbur rests his hand on the pommel of his sword. Dream shrugs wordlessly. 

Without warning, Schlatt’s head snaps up. “FUNDY!” he bellows. “Fundy, what are you doing here?!?”

Fundy looks down at Schlatt, stone-faced. “Schlatt, are you fucking-”

“Fundy, are you-” Schlatt wheezes, and stumbles to his feet. “Come here, you BITCH, YOU BITCH-” 

Schlatt swings the bottle at Fundy’s head. Some deep rooted instinct rears its head, and Wilbur feels himself moving, moving to get in between Fundy and Schlatt. He’s not quick enough, but it doesn’t matter. Fundy raises his arm defensively, and the bottle smashes against his gauntlet, soaking Schlatt in whiskey. Shouts of alarm erupt as Schlatt swings again, eyes wild. Fundy dodges and catches Schlatt’s wrist, forcing his arm down. “Schlatt, you fucked up the country! You fucked up  _ everything! _ ” he yells. “You had a dream and I followed it, but you brought it downhill, you RUINED IT! You ruined everything we had!” Schlatt stays silent as Fundy continues to yell. “I thought you  _ were something!” _

“Fucking god,” mutters Schlatt. “Yeah, I am something! I’m what you’re not, Fundy!”

“What?” Fundy snaps back. “What am I not?”

Schlatt’s eyes flash, and he shoves Fundy in the chest with his free hand. “I’M A  _ MAN!  _ YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT-”

Wilbur lets out a snarl of anger and snatches the collar of Schlatt’s shirt, yanking him away from Fundy. Any feelings of hatred towards Fundy shrink back into the depths of his mind. Schlatt’s attacking his  _ son. _ He can’t let anything happen to Fundy. “That’s it,” he hisses, shaking Schlatt roughly. “Dream, I don’t care what you have to say- Schlatt, are you ready to die?”

“What?” Schlatt barks.

“Are you ready to  _ fucking die?” _

“Oh, FUCK OFF!” Schlatt wrests free from Wilbur’s grip, swinging the broken bottle with wild abandon. Wilbur dodges the blow easily. Schlatt instantly turns back to Fundy, attempting to hit him with the bottle. “FUCK YOU, FUNDY!”

As more shouts erupt around him, Wilbur turns to Tommy. “Tommy, look at me. Do you still have Dream’s bow?”

Tommy’s eyes widen. “I do.”

Wilbur locks eyes with him. “Tommy, I want you to put it between his eyes.” 

It’s a test. Perhaps an unfair test, but a test nonetheless. Wilbur wants Schlatt dead. Schlatt deserves to die. If Tommy kills him…

Tommy’s never killed before. He’s killed animals for food, sure, but he’s never killed a person. Schlatt would be his first kill. But this is a  _ war. _ Someone needs to pay the price. Schlatt needs to die. And if Wilbur can get him to die at Tommy’s hand, that could change the entire course of the war. 

He needs more prompting. “Victory or death!” Wilbur says, echoing the words he had spoken so long ago. “Eret, you remember this, victory or death!”

Eret dips his head. “I remember very, very vividly.”

“Do it, Tommy.” Wilbur leans down to whisper right into his brother’s ear. Tommy needs to do this. He needs to be the one. He can already see the wheels turning in Tommy’s head as Tommy lifts the crossbow hesitantly. 

Schlatt looks at the crossbow. “You know, if I die, this country goes down with me.”

“No it doesn’t, Schlatt,” Tommy says, quiet but firm. 

A crazy laugh escapes Schlatt. “Oh, you don’t even  _ wanna _ know, Tommyinnit.”

Quackity shakes his head. “You could’ve had it, Schlatt. You could’ve had it all.”

Tommy raises the crossbow higher, angling it at Schlatt’s head. “This is it for you.”

Again, Schlatt laughs. The laugh turns into a cough, and Schlatt doubles over with the force of it. When he recovers, he looks directly at Quackity. “I had everybody turn on me,” he pants. “In my time of need, everybody  _ left. _ You left- you and your fat ass both  _ left- _ ”

“IT HAD TO GO-” Quackity abruptly stops and turns away. “Just end it.”

“Schlatt, what do you have to say for yourself?” Wilbur demands, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. Next to him, Tommy’s aim wavers, the crossbow dipping towards the ground.

Schlatt opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a breathless wheeze. He coughs again, his entire body shaking with the force of it. The sound is choked, harsh. Almost unnatural.

“Schlatt?” Wilbur asks quietly. He can practically feel the tension in the air as Schlatt coughs harder, clutching at his chest.

_ Is he… _

Shaking off the thought, Wilbur lets his hand rest on Tommy’s shoulder. “Just do it. End it now, Tommy. Get rid of him.”

Underneath Wilbur’s hand, Tommy stiffens. Schlatt sinks to his knees, still coughing and gasping for air.

Tommy raises the crossbow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you all know what's coming next >:)


	25. My L'manberg

Schlatt’s dead.

Dead. 

Dream had confirmed it, leaning down and checking Schlatt’s pulse. When he straightened up, he didn’t say anything. Just shook his head. 

“We won,” Wilbur had breathed. “We- we actually won.”

Tommy had lowered the crossbow, the unused bolt still resting in the catch. “Is it over?”

No one had spoken for a moment. Then the camarvan has erupted into a cacophony of noise. Laughing, shouting, cheering, congratulating. “WE WON!” Tommy had shouted, hit with a wave of euphoria. Tubbo had barreled into him and wrapped him in a hug, a hug that Tommy returned. Tommy had nearly knocked him over from the force of it. 

They’d all piled out of the camarvan, still laughing and celebrating. Even Techno seemed happy, slapping Quackity on the back and chuckling when Quackity stumbled forward. As they’d made their way towards the podium, Wilbur had stopped Tommy. 

“Tommy, I know you thought you’d never hear me say this.” Wilbur had looked down, an incredulous smile breaking across his face. “But… Tommyinnit, take your place on the podium and give us a speech.” He hesitated, then added, “Or should I say, President Elect Tommyinnit.”

Tommy had frozen in place, stunned. He only moved when Wilbur ushered him up to the podium. 

_ To  _ my _ podium. _

Now he stands atop the podium, looking out over the crowd of people. The last time Tommy had been here, he’d been screaming, kneeling in a pool of Tubbo’s blood.

Tubbo smiles up at him from the audience, burn scars fully visible. He looks  _ happy. _

The last time Tommy had stood up here in front of a crowd, in front of a microphone, he’d been in a state of shock. Schlatt had grinned at him, flanked by George and Quackity, sneering at Tommy and hissing for him to  _ get off his podium. _

Schlatt’s dead. Quackity’s in the crowd. Tommy catches Quackity’s eye, and the other man nods at him. Encouraging him.

Tommy takes a deep breath, and taps the mic. “Hello, everyone.”

_ Shit, how do I start this? _

_ How would Wilbur start this? _

“It… it looks like we’ve won.”

Someone in the crowd whoops, starting another round of cheers. Tommy waits for them to calm down, confidence boosted. “And I never thought I’d say this, but even after the hardships, the tyranny we’ve been through-” he finds Wilbur and Tubbo in the crowd- “Wilbur, Tubbo, after everything…”

He lets his gaze rest on Wilbur.

“It was meant to be.”

Wilbur stares at him for a moment. Then he ducks his head, laughing, and starts clapping. Tommy grins in relief, feeling himself relax as others start clapping too. “That’s my line!” Eret shouts. “It  _ was _ meant to be!”

It was meant to be.

They got the country back. They saved Wilbur. Everything’s alright now. Everything can be normal.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy catches a flash of lime green. Dream. Standing in the back of the crowd, looking up at Tommy. The mask obscures his face, but it feels like he’s taunting Tommy.

New resolve hardens at the back of Tommy’s mind. “Thank you, everyone, for making me the president. Wilbur, I know you said I never would be-”

“You can be,” Wilbur interrupts quietly. 

“Wilbur.”  _ Deep breaths. Deep breaths.  _ “I can’t be the president.”

He can practically feel the shock rippling through the crowd. Tommy fixes his eyes on Dream and barrels on. “As much as this is everything, and this is what would have been everything, I’ve still got unfinished business. ‘Cause you’ve still got those discs. And I can’t do this till we’re done. And Dream?

“We’re not done.”

Dream lets out a low chuckle. Tommy ignores him. “I can’t be the president because until I’ve got those discs back, I’m not done. And it’s not fair for me to take my place in L’manberg-”

The name slips out without a thought. Tommy brightens. “Luh-manberg!”

“YES!” Niki shouts suddenly. “You said the-”

Again, cheers erupt from the crowd. Tommy hears Tubbo shout, “We take Ls sometimes!” and lets out a laugh of his own.

_ L’manberg is back. There’s just one more part that’s missing. _

“Wilbur,” Tommy says slowly. “After all you’ve been through- I know you had your points when we thought you were gonna blow it up, you go on about your Chekhov’s fucking gun, I know- that that was all just talk. And finally, you did this… and there wasn’t a single explosion. So Wilbur-”

Tommy steps back from the mic. “Take your place on the podium.”

Wilbur stands up without protest. There’s a significant lack of applause this time, but no one argues against it either. As Tommy passes Wilbur, he throws him a small smile. Wilbur’s lips quirk up into a half-grin. Tommy takes Wilbur’s old seat, and sits down. It feels good to rest for once.

“I do have something to say,” Wilbur says. He adjusts the mic, bringing it up to his height. “I’m going to keep this brief.

“Tommy, your only decree as president happens to be one of the best ones you could make! Welcome to L’manberg, everyone,  _ L _ ’manberg.”

There’s a few half-hearted whoops from around Tommy. Tommy grins in satisfaction as Wilbur continues. “In keeping with the theme, I am also going to make a change. That flag-” Wilbur sweeps his arm out towards the black and red flag looming over them, flapping lazily in the breeze. “That flag that you see over there? Scrap it. That is  _ not _ the flag of our nation.”

That gets more of a response. Tommy cheers along with the others.

“The flag of our nation, is yellow, black, red, white, and blue!” Wilbur proclaims. “That’s how it should be. That is the first thing I want changed. However.” He holds up his hand. “I… also cannot be your president.”

_ What? _

That’s not what Tommy was expecting him to do. Wilbur was supposed to accept his position as president. He was supposed to become president again, just like the old days. 

Wilbur makes eye contact with Tommy, then shifts his gaze to Techno. “Techno, you’ve taught me a lot. You’ve taught me that government is not the way to go. And I agree with you. Everything you said, I agree with it. And while I’m not here to judge other people’s governments, I feel like it would be hypocritical of me to run a government. So.”

He hesitates for a split second. “I’m going to hand off the presidency to someone. I  _ need _ to hand off the presidency.” Again, he looks dead at Tommy. “It’s important to know how to say goodbye, to a nation, to ‘my L’manberg.’ There’s only one other person who could possibly be the president.

“Tubbo, I want you to come up to the stage.”

Immediately cheers splinter through the air. Next to Tommy, Tubbo sits stock-still, staring wide-eyed up at Wilbur. People are congratulating him, slapping him on the back, pushing him towards the podium. Tubbo moves slowly, like he’s in a trance. Right as he reaches the base of the podium, he pauses and glances back at Tommy. 

Tommy’s face stretches into a broad smile. That’s his Tubbo. That’s  _ his _ Tubbo. He bobs his head in a barely perceptible nod. Relief breaks across Tubbo’s face, and he flashes a nervous smile at Tommy.

_ President Tubbo. _

_ I like the sound of that. _

Wilbur lowers the mic before stepping back to let Tubbo take the mic. “I know you’re good at preparing speeches, and it’s probably a bit traumatic being up here, but I want you to wing this one.”

Tubbo laughs nervously. “I’ve still got scars.”

Wilbur laughs as well. “Tubbo, you’re a good kid, and an even better spy.”

With that, Wilbur walks down from the podium. Tubbo fiddles with the mic, grinning anxiously. “Well, uh, I’ve been put on the spot here,” he admits. “I wasn’t expecting to be surrounded by friends, enemies- which I don’t hate all that much, I’ll be honest- but I enjoy seeing the unity. That’s really what matters, whether we were fighting against each other, or together!” He starts to pick up confidence. “There’s a solid future, to be built upon here. Yes, it has damages, but everything has damages. When I think of damages, I think of it like a piece of wood that has nails banged into it. You can take the nails out, but there’s still dents.”

He trails off and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m really trying this whole metaphor thing-”

Tommy tries and fails to hold back a laugh, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “You’re doing good, you’re doing good!” Wilbur calls up, also laughing.

Tubbo ducks his head in embarrassment, but he’s laughing too. “Well, there’s still holes! And the holes can be filled. And that’s what I’d like to do with my job as president. I don’t want to be an agent of chaos, if you will, or anyone who wants to start violent activity, that’s honestly the last thing on my agenda. I just want to… you know, I wanna fix this place up, I want it to be back as it was in its heyday! And I feel like, now everyone’s here, in unity, no one is banned, there aren’t any walls, everyone can be here. Everyone has fought for this nation, against, or to reclaim. And that’s what counts.” He lets out a breath that he seems to have held for a while. “Thank you, everyone. It’s been an honor.”

Once again, cheers erupt through the crowd. Tommy claps as hard as he can. “PRESIDENT TUBBO!” he hollers, and Tubbo glances at him, smiling brightly. He looks happy, he’s  _ happy. _

If Tubbo’s happy, then Tommy’s happy too. 

Tubbo climbs down from the podium, and Tommy immediately tackles him in a bear hug. This time he succeeds in knocking him over, and both boys tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. “Yes, yes, yes, YES!” Tommy shouts, laughing ecstatically. “YES, Tubbo!” 

“Tommy- I can’t breathe- my burns-” Despite his words, Tubbo’s laughing as well. 

After several minutes of breathless laughing and congratulating, Tubbo detaches himself from Tommy and stands up, brushing grass off of his shirt. “Tommy, you have been by my side for a very long time, and I know you have unfinished business, but when that business is settled, I would really appreciate it if you would join my side and be my VP.”

_ Me? _

_ Tubbo wants… me? To be the vice president? _

“I will, Tubbo,” Tommy says softly. 

Tubbo’s grin grows wider, and his shoulders sink in relief. “Thank you,” he murmurs. 

It would have been a tender moment, had Quackity not lunged at them, throwing his arms over their shoulders. “C’mon let’s CELEBRATE!”

Tommy grins at Tubbo, and the two boys let Quackity lead them off.

_ It’s going to be okay now. _

Neither boy notices Technoblade standing stock-still in the center of the crowd, fidgeting with the firework in his crossbow.

And neither boy notices Wilbur striding quickly towards the back of the podium, casting furtive glances over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy i did like no proofreading on this lol i'll probably regret that later


	26. Never Meant To Be

Wilbur finds himself back at the room with the button. 

_ Chekhov’s gun. _

Tommy said they won. Tubbo said they won. Schlatt’s gone, dead, never to return. L’manberg is theirs. By all means, they’ve won.

But Wilbur hasn’t won. Not yet. And he won’t win until that button is pressed.

He has L’manberg back, though. Doesn’t that means he’s won?

Wilbur’s eyes land on the lyrics scratched into the walls.

_ I heard there was a special place… _

Was.

There was a special place. 

He thinks about L’manberg, the L’manberg that he knew. The camarvan, with the familiar, faintly scorched smell of potions lingering in the air. The walls, looming over them, providing safety and comfort. The flag waving in the breeze, proudly flashing its bold colors to the world. Niki’s bakery, a place that Wilbur had sought refuge in time and time again. Fundy, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, everyone who fought against Dream for L’manberg’s independence. There were no weapons or armor in his L’manberg.

_ Where men could go and emancipate... _

Then Wilbur thinks about the L’manberg that sits over his head.

The camarvan is gone, replaced with a cheap replica and the stench of alcohol. The walls are gone, torn down by some of the selfsame hands that had built them up. The original flag had been burned, an oily black flag glowing with embers taking its place. Niki’s bakery is closed, boarded up long ago on Schlatt’s orders. Fundy, Tommy, Tubbo, even Niki had all turned against Wilbur. Everyone is armed to the teeth, bristling with armor and quivers and daggers. 

“It used to exist,” Wilbur mumbles to himself, voice hoarse. “It used to, it did, it did.”

He stares at the carved lyrics again. 

_ The brutality and the tyranny of their ruler… _

Tubbo’s no tyrant. He isn’t brutal.

“But even with Tubbo- even with Tubbo in charge, I don’t think it can exist again.” He’s arguing with himself now.

The button is right there. 

If he’s going to press it ever, it’s now.

It has to be now.

If not now, then someone will find him. Someone will come and stop Wilbur, drag him away, lock him in a place where he’ll never see this button again. If Tommy doesn’t, it’ll be Tubbo. If not Tubbo, it’ll be Quackity. If not Quackity, Niki. The list goes on and on. Someone will try to stop him from pressing the button.

Wilbur has to press it now. 

“The thing that I built this nation for doesn’t exist anymore!” he yells suddenly, slamming his fist into the wall directly next to the button. “The thing I’ve worked towards DOESN’T EXIST ANYMORE!” All of the core ideals are gone. It’s not his L’manberg anymore. Tommy may have given it back its original name, but it’s still Manberg.

_ Well this place is real, you needn’t fret… _

His fingers dance over the button. “It’s over.”

“What are you doing?”

Wilbur’s heart sinks like a stone. 

_ No.  _

_ No, he can’t- _

_ I thought he was- _

_ He isn’t here. He’s off in- _

_ Is he really- _

Wilbur’s next words are cracked and quiet. Vulnerable. “Phil?”

A sigh from behind him. “What are you doing.”

Slowly, full of apprehension, Wilbur turns around. 

And sure enough, he’s there. Striped green hat. Dark green robe. Blond hair. Purple-gray wings folded behind his back. Staring directly at Wilbur. 

Philza.

_ Dad. _

“I’m not- I wasn’t doing anything,” Wilbur stammers. “We just- we just made Tubbo president, we, uh, elected Tubbo president and we won! We won the war, Schlatt’s gone, Schlatt’s gone, Phil, so-”

“Uh huh.” Phil studies him, his eyes never leaving Wilbur’s. 

_ Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck- _

“I will admit...” Wilbur starts to say. 

Phil’s eyes bore into him. Wilbur’s skin crawls. It’s no use, lying to Phil.

Abruptly he changes tactics. “Do you know what this button is?” Wilbur gestures at the button, still mere centimeters from his hand.

Phil nods once. “I do.”

“Ha- have you heard the song, written on the walls, before, have you heard this song?” His voice comes out weak and wobbly. Wilbur’s  _ scared. _ Scared of Phil. “I was just saying that there  _ was _ a special place, but it’s not there anymore, you know, it’s not-”

The words stick in his throat and Wilbur looks down. Phil takes a step closer. “It  _ is _ there. You’ve just won it back, Will.”

His tone is soft, gentle. No, no, no, Phil doesn’t get to be this calm, he doesn’t understand, he doesn’t understand what Wilbur’s been through, he doesn’t get to  _ be this fucking calm while Wilbur’s so- _

“PHIL, I’M ALWAYS SO CLOSE TO PRESSING THIS BUTTON!” Wilbur shouts. All of the frustration, sadness, anger, guilt, everything he’s felt since that day at the election comes pouring out. “PHIL, I HAVE BEEN- I HAVE BEEN HERE LIKE  _ SEVEN OR EIGHT TIMES  _ I HAVE BEEN HERE- SEVEN OR EIGHT TIMES-”

He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Phil, I’ve- I’ve been here so many times…” 

_ BANGBANGBANGBANG. _

Fireworks.

Technoblade.

Wilbur looks up at where he knows the podium sits above his head. “They’re fighting, they’re  _ fighting-” _

“And you want to just blow it all up.” Phil’s tone doesn’t make it a question. He takes another step closer to Wilbur.

Wilbur pushes his hands through his hair, breathing shakily. “Yeah, I do, I think I-” He cuts himself off, trying to get a handle on his breathing.

Again, Phil steps closer. “You’ve fought so hard to get this land back. So hard.”

“I don’t even know if it works anymore,” Wilbur confides in a small voice. “I could press it and…”

Phil tilts his head sideways. “Do you really want to take that risk?”

_ Do I? _

The button is right here. So close. Even if Phil tried, he wouldn’t be able to stop Wilbur. 

_ Do it. _

_ Don’t. _

_ Press it. _

_ Don’t. _

_ Press the button.  _

_ End it. _

“There was a saying, Phil,” he says quietly. “By a traitor.”

_ With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret… _

Wilbur looks up at Phil, feeling tears glistening in his eyes. “It was never meant to be.”

Phil’s eyes widen as Wilbur slams his fist into the button. “Oh my god- you didn’t-”

For a split second, there’s nothing.

Then-

_ BOOM. _

Heat rushes up against Wilbur’s back as he raises his arm in a salute, heat that’s enough to penetrate the thick folds of his trench coat. A wild, crazed laugh escapes Wilbur’s mouth as he relishes the heat, leans into it despite the blistering pain of burns forming along his back, his shoulders, his arms.

_ It’s a very big and not blown up L’manberg... _

_ It’s done. _

_ It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, it’s OVER- _

Something slams into him, wrapping around him and blocking the remaining twists of heat. Distantly, Wilbur hears screaming, shouts, yells, and someone- Tommy?- shrieks,  _ “NO!” _

He did it, he did it, he did it, he did it, he  _ did it- _

The weight around him disappears. “Ohhh, my gods!” he hears Phil shout. “WILL! It’s all  _ gone!” _

Wilbur turns to survey his handiwork, the glorious crater that used to be a walled city known as L’manberg. 

Relief floods through him. It’s thoroughly destroyed. Everything,  _ everything _ , is gone.

For the first time since his exile, Wilbur relaxes.

_ My L’manberg… _

“MY L’MANBERG, PHIL!” Wilbur shouts, whipping around to face Phil. “MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY,  _ FOREVER _ UNFINISHED! IF I CAN’T HAVE IT, NO ONE CAN, PHIL!”

“Oh, my god,” Phil murmurs. His wings flutter in an agitated state of distress. 

_ My L’manberg… _

He needs to end it. Permanently. 

“Kill me, Phil.” Wilbur’s voice is colored with maniac desperation. “Phil, kill me. Phil,  _ kill me.”  _ He unsheathes the sword at his hip and frantically shoves the hilt at Phil. “Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now.  _ Kill me. _ ”

An old nickname that he, Techno, and Tommy had come up with as kids resurfaces. Wilbur pounces on it. “Killza.  _ Killza. _ Do it, murder me- look, they all want you to!” Wilbur yells, gesturing out at the ruins of L’manberg. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see figures moving, watching, fighting, waiting.

Phil follows his gaze, the pommel of the sword grazing his hand. Wilbur wraps his fingers around it, pressing the sword into his father’s hands. “Do it, Phil,” he says softly. “Kill me. Phil, kill me-”

_ My L’manberg… _

Phil shakes his head, drawing back. “I- you’re my SON!” he shouts, voice cracking.

“Phil, KILL ME!” He’s practically begging now. Wilbur just wants it to be over, he wants to rest-

“No matter what you- did, no matter what you’ve… done…” Phil trails off, looking out over the crater that used to be L’manberg.

“Phil,” Wilbur pleads. “This isn’t- look. LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, AND IT’S GONE!”

Phil stays silent.

“Do it,” Wilbur says quietly. “Do it.” He spreads his arms wide, leaving a clear shot at his vitals. 

He wants this.

Phil looks at him, clear anguish written across his face. His eye glimmer with sadness as he opens his arms, pulling Wilbur into a hug. Wilbur doesn’t protest.

_ My L’manberg… _

Warmth blossoms in Wilbur’s chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nlg i speedran this in like three hours BOY OH BOY THESE STREAMS AMIRIGHT 
> 
> IM GONNA FUCKING CRY
> 
> might take me a bit longer to get the last chapter out, it's long and i might just word spew tonight instead of write the last chapter like a good little author


	27. Everybody Wants To Rule The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death, blood
> 
> I tried to fix the "thi s" but it just wouldnt cooperate :')

One of Philza’s hands is pressed against Wilbur’s shoulder, clutching his son tightly to his body.

The other is wrapped around the pommel of a sword, the blade of which is sunk through Wilbur’s chest.

He feels Will stiffen, hears his breath hitch, and a choked sob wrenches free from Phil’s throat. This is his son. His son. His son, his Will, his boy-

Wilbur slumps into Phil, fully impaling himself on the sword. Phil grips him tighter, refusing to let go. “Ohhh, Will…”

Slowly, slowly, Phil sinks to the ground, letting Wilbur’s weight drag him down. There’s a warm, sticky wetness spreading across his shoulder. Blood. Not his blood, but Wilbur’s. Blood that Phil spilt. 

“Why couldn’t you just win?” 

Phil cradles his son to his chest, tears threatening to spill. He can hear Will’s breathing, rough and uneven. He can even feel Wilbur’s heartbeat against his shoulder. It’s slowing with every second, every second the blade remains lodged in his chest.

No. Please. He doesn’t want to lose a son. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here, you’re alright.” He knows that Wilbur’s past hearing him now, but it feels _wrong,_ wrong to not comfort Wilbur, wrong to not assure him that everything’s alright. Wilbur has to know he’s not alone.

Wilbur’s breathing is shallow. Barely audibly, he exhales.

_Please._

_Please, I don’t want to lose my son._

Against his shoulder, Phil feels Wilbur’s heartbeat stutter.

_No. No, please…_

And then it stops.

The sobs that had built up in Phil’s chest break, and he buries his head in his son’s shoulder.

_No._

_No. no. no._

_Wilbur…_

His son is dead. His own _son._ Dead at Phil’s hand.

“Why couldn’t you just _win?”_ The words come out harsher than intended and Phil grips Wilbur tighter, rocking back and forth.

**_Yo_ _ur fault._ **

**_He’s dead be_ _cause of you._ **

**_Yo_ _u did th_ _i_** _**s.** _

**_You killed your own son._ **

Distantly he hears the _BANG_ of fireworks. Someone screams. 

Techno. Tommy. His two remaining sons. 

Something inside Phil flares to life. Tommy and Techno are still here. They’re still alive, still fighting. Still in danger. Phil lost Wilbur. He had known that in the back of his mind since he first entered this room. Wilbur had been lost to madness long before Phil ended it. But Techno and Tommy can still be saved. He can save them.

_Those are my sons out there._

Carefully, Phil grasps Will’s shoulders and leans him back. Wilbur’s head lolls, and Phil catches a glimpse of the expression on his face. His eyes are open, vacant and unseeing, a half-smile fixed on his mouth. He looks happy. Content. 

_This is what he wanted._

Phil lays Wilbur back onto the ground, heedless of the blood. He hates leaving his son on the ground like this. Wilbur deserves so much more than this. He _deserved_ so much more than this. After a moment’s hesitation, Phil pulls the sword out of Wilbur’s chest. He’ll need it. It’s impossible to hide the wound, the hole too large, too bloody, but Phil does what he can.

The one thing he can’t bring himself to do is close Wilbur’s eyes.

He stands up, surveying the scene. It’s certainly not pretty. But it’ll have to do. Phil _will_ come back for Wilbur. He won’t leave him alone again.

_BANGBANGBANGBANG._

_BANGBANG._

But right now, people need him. 

Phil flaps his scorched, blood-crusted wings, and takes off into the air. A onceover of the battlefield shows two clear sides. Techno’s on one side. Tommy’s on the other. 

It’s not a conscious decision.

_BANGBANGBANG._

He throws himself into a dive, ploughing into Tubbo and shielding the younger boy with his body. The firework that had been meant for Tubbo- _it had been aimed at Tubbo’s head, Techno’s aiming to kill_ \- clips Phil’s wing. The force throws Phil off-balance, sending him spiraling towards the ground.

_Protect Tubbo-_

Phil hits the ground hard, taking the brunt of the impact in his back and rolling. He curls around Tubbo, wrapping his wings around him in a protective embrace as they skid across the rough stone. As soon as he feels himself stop, Phil releases Tubbo, ignoring Tubbo’s belated gasp of panic. Yells- panicked, confused, relieved- erupt around him as Phil pushes himself up. 

“Philza?” Phil whips towards the sound of Tommy’s voice just as Tommy shouts, “NO! Stop, stop NOW, Techno! Techno, stop now, stop now, stop RIGHT NOW-”

“YOU STAY RIGHT OVER THERE, TOMMY!” Techno roars.

Phil turns again, and freezes in place. 

On the other side of the unnatural chasm that is L’manberg stands Techno, flanked by Dream, Awesamdude, and Badboyhalo. Soul sand is piled into two T-shapes at Techno’s sides. Each T has two wither skulls already perched atop them. All of Techno’s weapons are sheathed, but he doesn’t need them. The two wither skulls he holds in each hand are enough of a threat. 

Stillness falls over gathered people, everyone watching Techno. Phil notices just how outnumbered his eldest is. Not that it would matter, if he spawns withers. Even if he doesn’t use withers, Techno could still take on almost anyone. 

Techno doesn’t acknowledge Phil’s presence, instead honing in on Tommy. “Tommy. Do you think you’re a hero? Is that what this is?”

“I just wanted L’manberg,” Tommy stammers.

“You wanted _power_ ,” Techno says, talking right over him. “Tommy, you just did a coup! You just did a hostile government take over and immediately instilled yourself as president! _That’s still a tyrant, Tommy!”_

Techno pauses, closing his eyes briefly. Phil tenses, adjusting his grip on his sword. He recognizes that expression. That’s how Techno acts when he’s trying to suppress the voices. Phil thought it had been getting better, but all the fighting can’t have been good. If Techno snaps, Phil has to be ready for it.

“Look, the thing about this world, Tommy?” Techno opens his eyes, looking directly at Tommy. “Is that good things don’t happen to heroes. 

“Let me tell you a story, Tommy. A story of a man called Theseus. His country was endangered, and he sent himself forward into enemy lines, he _slayed_ the Minotaur and saved his city. You know what they did to him, Tommy?” Techno’s voice rises. “They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes, Tommy. The Greeks knew the score.”

Phil’s heart sinks. He knows the story. He knows how it ends. And Techno’s _not wrong._ Nothing good ever happens to heroes. If Techno’s trying to make Tommy see that-

“But if you want to be a hero, Tommy, that’s fine.” Techno’s eyes flicker red. 

“Don’t do this, Techno,” Phil warns, lifting his sword. Techno still doesn’t look at him.

“Don’t do this,” pleads Tommy. “We’re so close, I’m not the hero, no one’s the hero-”

“You want to be a hero, Tommy?!?” Techno raises the skulls higher, scarlet clouding over his eyes. “THEN _DIE_ LIKE ONE!”

Techno slams down the last two wither skulls. 

Phil shouts in alarm. Shockwaves ripple out as two withers explode into existence. Phil’s wings fly open, curling in front of him. Even with his wings shielding him, the shockwave pushes him back, his heels leaving divots in the ground. Dark clouds roil across the sky, and Phil hears screams and shouts of panic.

_Fuck._

Already the withers are in full attack mode. Wither skulls fly in every direction, and Phil ducks as one shoots over his head. A bow. He needs a bow. Phil can provide aerial support, but not with a sword. Hand to hand combat in the air is difficult, too difficult for Phil to successfully maintain. Especially with withers. 

Another skull misses him by inches. Phil jumps away from the explosion, beating his wings to get the extra distance. Someone races past him, and Phil grabs the person’s arm. “I need a bow!”

The person turns out to be Fundy, eyes wild with panic. He thrashes frantically against Phil’s grip, and Phil forces Fundy to look at him. “Fundy, it’s me-”

Recognition flits across Fundy’s face. “Phil?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Phil sees a head on one of the withers swivel in their direction. He pulls Fundy close to his chest, whirling around to shield him with his body. The explosion goes off a few meters away, and Phil yanks Fundy back. “I need a bow, I can take the withers, but not without a bow!”

Without hesitation, Fundy slings a bow from his shoulder and shoves it at Phil. “Take it!” The quiver comes off next, about half full with arrows.

Every shot has to count.

He glances at Fundy. “Get to a safe place. Don’t engage the withers unless you’re certain you can take one, find help if one starts going after you, keep your weapons and armor on you, and _stay away from Technoblade.”_

Fundy nods. Phil watches after him for a moment, making sure he stays safe. 

_Oh god, how am I going to tell him…_

The second Fundy disappears from sight, Phil launches himself into the sky. The withers have split off from each other. One is too far from him to get a proper shot. But the other is much closer. It’s spinning in wild circles, firing at anything that moves. Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, and someone else- Phil thinks his name might be Quackity- scramble around it, dodging skulls and frantically trying to fight back.

Phil’s first arrow takes out the wither’s left head.

The wither screeches and turns its attention to Phil. The next arrow misses, nearly impaling Niki. Phil curses and soars higher into the sky. The wither follows him, and Phil whips around, shooting another arrow at it. It glances off of the wither’s ribcage. Without waiting for the wither to shoot back, Phil barrel rolls. The skulls whistle past him.

Well… he’s got the wither away from Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, and Quackity. And more negatively, it’s now fixated on him.

The wither isn’t as fast or maneuverable as Phil. Phil keeps himself in motion, not allowing himself to stay in the same place for more than a moment. To his irritation, the wither stays on him. No matter how quickly Phil moves, the damn thing refuses to get off his tail. Phil hisses in annoyance and throws himself into a series of the most complicated maneuvers he can think of. Still, he can’t shake the wither.

Phil touches down on a jutting rock that may have been the remains of the podium and pulls back an arrow. Right as the wither shoots a barrage of skulls at him, Phil looses the arrow. He takes off into the air again, letting the skulls explode beneath him.

The arrow hits its mark.

He hears the wither’s screech, and turns, aiming at the remaining head. Poor timing. The wither’s spinning and thrashing too much, and the arrow comes nowhere near hitting it. Wither skulls shoot out in every direction, and Phil goes higher to avoid them. Below him, Tommy yells and Tubbo lets out a cry of alarm. Phil can guess what happened without having to look. With himself out of range, the wither has turned on easier, grounded targets. 

Rage flares through Phil. He should have seen that coming. This is on him. 

Phil doesn’t allow himself time to think. “OUT OF THE WAY!” he yells, gesturing for his boys to move. They scramble back, and Phil nocks an arrow in his bow. Beating his wings to keep himself aloft, Phil releases arrow after arrow, keeping up a steady hail of blows on the wither. Some of them hit. Most do not. 

_I’m too high up._

He won’t be able to land any effective blows from up here. The wither’s too far and his bow too weak, too close to snapping in his hands. If Phil wants to take it out, he has to get closer. It’ll put him in the wither’s range, but-

Unaffected by his arrows, the wither is cornering Tubbo. Tommy lets out a panicked shout, and Phil snarls in anger.

Screw it.

Phil drops the bow, switching it out for the sword. The quiver drops as well. He lets his wings flap once more, tucks them in, and dives _._

The point of the tactic is to gain speed. And that’s exactly what Phil does. He plummets towards the ground, the wind tearing his hat off his head. Halfway down, Phil opens his wings again, beating them as hard and fast as he can. He needs as much speed as possible. It’ll only work if he has speed, surprise, and power. 

Phil barrels into the wither and buries his sword into its remaining head.

The force of the impact slams the wither to the ground. It thrashes, letting out a horrible wail. Phil forces the sword in deeper, and the wither goes limp. Still not satisfied, Phil twists the blade, not stopping until the wither dissipates in a puff of smoke. Phil glances up at Tommy. “Is everyone-”

Tommy’s eyes widen and he lunges forward. “PHILZA LOOK-”

Something slams into Phil from behind, throwing him forward. Phil hits the ground with a grunt of pain, and a heavy boot presses into his back, right in between his wings. He writhes under the other person’s weight, beating his wings together in an attempt at hitting whoever’s got him pinned to the ground. Mistake. The person grabs his left wing, forcing it still, snatches a handful of feathers and _yanks._

Pain shoots through Phil’s body and he cries out. Someone’s yanking out his feathers. He can _feel_ the feathers getting ripped out. The pain isn’t stopping, someone’s still pulling out handfuls of feathers, pulling out handfuls of his beautiful, gray feathers-

The person releases his wing. Immediately Phil draws the limb back, pulling it close to his body. He starts to pull back the other wing too, but there are already hands on it, _trapping_ the limb in place. Phil’s back arches as handfuls upon handfuls of feathers get torn out and he clamps his mouth shut, trying to hold in a screech of pain. 

Whoever’s got ahold of him drops his wing, feathers fluttering down around them. The weight on his back grows heavier, and Phil feels the person lean down.

“No flying,” Dream hisses in his ear.

Phil grits his teeth and twists, jabbing his elbow back into where he knows Dream’s face is. The blow connects with the hard porcelain of Dream’s mask, and Dream lurches back with a grunt. Taking advantage of it, Phil bucks under Dream’s weight, throwing the other man off. Scrambling to his feet, Phil reaches for his sword and comes up empty handed.

Dream’s mask is chipped, exposing the smirk across his face. He sweeps out Phil’s sword, his own sword held loosely in his other hand. “Looking for a fight?”

Can Philza take Dream?

The choice isn’t given to him. Dream lunges, and Phil leaps out of the way. He attempts to spread his wings, and recoils as pain spikes through them. Alright. A ground fight it is.

Dream is good. He’s quick. Agile. He knows how to pull off the riskiest of moves and barely sustain a scratch. Even with injuries, Dream can keep fighting and survive until he wins. Fuck, Phil’s even seen him go toe to toe with Techno and nearly win as well. But Phil’s also good. He knows how to play the long run. Even unarmed, injured, and hindered by wings that he cannot use the way he usually does, Phil can survive. Phil’s survived against enemies much stronger than him before. Dream may have fought Techno once; Phil’s fought with Techno countless times over the years. He’s had plenty of experience being outmatched. 

Dream slashes at him with both blades. Phil whirls, avoiding the blows, and lets one of his wings smack into Dream. Dream stumbles, off-balance, and Phil smoothly snatches his sword from Dream’s hand. “I’ll take that,” he says, letting his voice become deceptively pleasant. In the same motion, Phil drives the pommel of the sword into Dream’s midsection. 

His opponent wheezes, doubling over, and Phil raises his sword to land a more lethal blow. The mistake is exposing his torso. Still bent over, Dream kicks out, forcing Phil back. Phil grunts, and barely manages to avoid what would have been a killing blow. The sword scrapes against his side, and already Phil feels blood welling from the wound. 

And then Dream backs off.

The move confuses Phil. Why would Dream abandon the fight? He must know that it could go either way. If Dream had kept pushing, he would have stood a fair chance at winning. So what’s his play?

Dream’s head turns towards Tommy. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Phil and he snarls, putting himself between Dream and Tommy. Despite the pain, he fully extends his wings and puffs them out. “I’m not losing anyone else,” Phil warns, shifting his grip on the sword.

_I’m not losing another son._

_I’d sooner lose my own life than lose another son._

Dream tilts his head sideways. Then he turns and strides away.

Phil doesn’t let himself relax. He glances over his wing at Tommy. “Is there still a wither?” 

Tommy shakes his head. “Your wings-”

“They’re just feathers.” Phil shrugs off the flash of fear at the thought of sustaining permanent damage to his wings. “They’ll grow back.”

There’s the distinct _bang_ of TNT. Phil’s heart sinks. “It’s still going off?”

“No, that’s-” Tommy’s voice trembles. “That’s Techno.”

_Ah._

“Stay here.” Phil picks up a discarded dagger- _Wilbur used to use daggers-_ and presses it into Tommy’s hands. “I’ll take care of it.”

Without waiting for Tommy to respond, Phil takes off at a run. It’s strange. Not flying, the knowledge that he _can’t_ fly, that he’s grounded for a year, a whole _year_ without flying-

Not that it matters now. He has to reign in Techno. That’s what matter right here and right now. Phil’s concerns about his wings aren’t important.

There. Techno’s right there. Even from this distance, Phil can tell he’s still full “blood for the blood god” mode. Techno’s fighting someone, someone that Phil doesn’t recognize. The man is holding up, but even so, Techno’s pushing him back. Phil makes eye contact with the man and flicks his wing to the left. The man nods, stumbling away from Techno, and Phil throws himself into the fight.

Immediately, Techno turns on him. Phil lashes out with the sword to no effect. Techno smacks away the blade with his forearm, and Phil ducks the returning blow. Without hesitating, Techno slashes down again. Again, Phil avoids the blade. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Phil notes that if either hit had connected, they would have been killing blows.

So that’s how the voices want to play.

Phil doesn’t hold back. He can’t afford to hold back. He knows exactly how Techno fights when the bloodlust takes over, and if Phil falters for a moment, Techno will simply overpower him. Techno only outmatches Phil in brute strength, and Phil only outmatches Techno in experience. So Phil fights as hard as he can. Techno can handle it. 

For a while, the fight goes “well.” Phil holds his own, not quite aiming to kill but not hesitating to attempt what would be crippling blows. Every time Techno strikes, he strikes to kill. A stab at Phil’s chest. Aiming a firework at Phil’s head. An attempt to cut through Phil’s vulnerable midsection. Each time, Phil manages to evade death. 

Techno spins his trident around, and slams the butt of the weapon into Phil’s side. Phil’s injured side. 

Phil shouts in pain and reflexively swings his sword. The edge of the blade just barely nicks Techno’s cheek. Blood trickles from the wound. Pain throbs through Phil’s body and he swings again, the blade slicing into Techno’s arm. Techno snarls, sweeping out the trident again and smacking the shaft into Phil’s head. 

Phil shakes off the blow and returns it in the span of a heartbeat.

The force of the blow knocks Techno over. He shoves his trident upwards at Phil’s chest and Phil catches the trident, wrenching it out of Techno’s hands. Techno attempts to scramble back as Phil tosses the trident aside. Phil steps heavily on Techno’s chest, pinning him in place. As Techno thrashes, Phil swings down his sword. Techno blocks it.

Phil _trained_ Techno. He sure as hell knows how to beat him.

**_Kill him._ **

He swings again. Again, Techno blocks.

**_He deserves it._ **

Again.

**_Punish him._ **

**_Dadza mad._ **

Again.

**_Madza._ **

Again. Phil kicks away Techno’s sword.

**_Kill him._ **

**_Killza._ **

_“Killza- Killza!”_

Phil falters.

_“Phil, kill me!”_

Techno’s hands are thrust out in front of him, a last, ditch-all attempt at defense. The red seeps out of his eyes, returning them to their usual brown. He looks _scared._

Scared of Philza.

_I don’t want to lose another son._

Phil drops his sword. He steps back, lifting his boot from Techno’s chest. “Go,” Phil murmurs quickly. “Get away from here. Find a place to lay low. I’ll come to you.”

Without hesitation, Techno scrambles to his feet and flees. Phil watches his son disappear into the trees and lets out a long sigh.

He’s not going to lose another son. Phil doesn’t care what it takes. He’ll keep his sons alive no matter the cost. He couldn’t save Will. But Phil can certainly save Techno and Tommy. 

Next priority is checking on Tommy. Checking on Tubbo. Checking on Fundy. They’ll need help. They’ll need support. And Phil will try his fucking hardest to help. 

Phil finds Tommy with Tubbo. They’re hovering around the room, that _fucking room with the button_. Both seem hesitant to get closer than ten meters. Phil approaches them, folding his wings around his boys and clutching them tightly to his chest. He turns them away from the room. Phil doesn’t want them to see. Wilbur’s body is gone- Phil doesn’t know what happened to him or if someone took him or- but the heavy bloodstains on the rock tell enough. 

He stays with his boys all the way until night falls. They seem content to stay wrapped in Phil’s wings, leaning into his warmth. And Phil’s happy to let them stay. Sometimes they talk. Most of the time they don’t. At some point, Tubbo starts crying. Tommy follows soon after. Phil’s heart cracks in two at the sound, and he pulls them closer. They don’t deserve this. They’re just _teenagers_ for fuck’s sake. 

Wilbur’s gone. Dead. Techno’s fled, an outcast from the city. L’manberg is a crater in the ground. Two young, traumatized, _brave_ boys sob into Phil’s chest.

Philza holds his sons close. He’ll keep them alive with his dying breath if he has to. The sinking feeling in his stomach won’t let him relax.

This is just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhh my god.
> 
> Gotta admit, I procrastinated so much on this chapter
> 
> I honestly cannot believe I finished this, it started with me scribbling out what I thought might've gone done in the Final Control Room 
> 
> Man we've come so far
> 
> About five months spent writing this
> 
> I dont think I can write another part, but keep an eye out for short snippets of scenes from more recent events!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with this fic and supporting this <3 love you all


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